


10-94

by gravesecret, softcorehippos



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe – Modern Setting, Bisexual Bucky, Brief Bucky/Nat, Bucky doing illegal stuff, Cars, Drug Use, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, FBI Agent Steve Rogers, Gang-Related Violence, M/M, Mechanic Bucky Barnes, Police Violence, Racer Bucky Barnes, Racing Terminologies, Recreational Drug Use, Sex while Under the Influence, Smoking, Street Racing, Street Racing AU, Undercover, Violence, and more gay, angst with happy ending, homophobic slur, kind of like fast and furious but with more sex and more drugs, poppers, sex drugs and rock and roll but with cars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 17:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 38,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16496810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravesecret/pseuds/gravesecret, https://archiveofourown.org/users/softcorehippos/pseuds/softcorehippos
Summary: Late at night, when the city sleeps, they race.Bucky Barnes owns a garage and race for pinks, Steve Rogers is an FBI Agent with a lot of people to prove wrong.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bvckysteve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bvckysteve/gifts).



> I can't believe I actually finished this.  
> This is my first ever SteveBucky fic, also first ever bang!
> 
> Massive thanks to  
> Gravesecret, my wonderful, amazing, incredible artist. Thank you for choosing my fic and creating such a great artwork. You're the absolute best. 
> 
> My beta Calepwrite for going over this work and for the Cali insights, without you this fic would be a hot mess.
> 
> And Hanna, for being you.

It was finally time.

2 years of sitting still while compiling enough probable cause for an investigation, Steve was finally getting the green light to go undercover for what could be the biggest drug bust in his career, potentially catapulting him to the big leagues.

“The following is the general information for your cover during this undercover operations. Grant Joseph. Freelance graphic designer, mostly works from home. No siblings. No parents. No relatives in the area. Born and raised in LA,”

“But–“

“...Graduated top of the class from the California Institute of the Arts and is single with no children. Any questions so far?” Special Agent Margaret “Peggy” Carter asked, looking up from the dossier with one eyebrow raised.

“No, Ma’am, please go ahead.”

“Target is Alexander Pierce of the HYDRA Cartel. Infiltration will be done through his known associates, Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins. Are you clear with the mission parameters and your clearance?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Steve nodded, to which Peggy replied with an eye roll.

“Stop it with the Ma’am.” She glared, earning a chuckle from Steve. “Alright, well, can you go over your infiltration points again? Just to be sure. How are you going to get to Rumlow and Rollins?”

“There are few possible points of infiltration but it was agreed that we’ll go in through their underground contacts in street racing. Rollins and Rumlow are often seen at Howling Commando Auto Shop, owned by James Buchanan Barnes; also known as the Doctor. The plan is to establish a relationship with Barnes, join their inner circle. He’s our link to Rumlow and Rollins.”

“Remember to check in periodically. Okay? If you don’t I’m going to assume you’re dead and we’re going to have to storm your place.

“Got it.”

“Steve seriously, please be careful.”

Steve’s expression softened and he smiled. “Okay Pegs, I promise.”

 

* * *

 

Late at night, when the city sleeps, they race.

Somewhere in the outskirts of LA, behind the wheel of two import cars were two men, giving each other a stare-down as their feet poised over the pedals. A young woman dressed in a skimpy outfit stood in front of the two revving cars with a flashlight in hand and gave the two drivers a teasing smirk before holding it up to signal the two drivers to get ready.

When the flashlight lit, the cars dropped into gear. Pedals slammed to the floor and the two quickly set off, screeching their tires and sending up clouds of dust.

The crowd roared as they cheered on, shouting out encouragement for their drivers and ¼ miles later, the race ended with the R35 GT-R as the winner.

“ _Aha! Ha ha ha!_ Pay up motherfuckers, pay up.” Gabe Jones grinned from ear to ear as he collected bet money from his friends.

“Piss off, Jones.” James Falsworth, or Monty, grumbled but slapped a 50 onto Gabe’s palm.

“Hey! I told ya, always bet for the GT-R, they don’t call it the Godzilla for nothing.” Gabe smiled smugly, counting the 50s he got in his hands. “My lady and I are eatin’ good tomorrow night.”

Monty promptly ignored Gabe and turned his attention to his left, where Bucky was standing with his arms crossed, a serious expression on his face. “The car sounded great, finally figured out what was wrong with it?”

“Yeah, a vacuum leak from a bad intake manifold gasket, fixed it last night.” Bucky answered.

“But?”

“But she still has too much torque and, fuck, I thought I fixed that problem last week.” Bucky brought both hands down his face before leaning back against Monty’s car.

“Well, there’s always tomorrow. Tell Quill to bring the car around, we’ll scan it and have Pietro tinker with the settings, it’ll be fine.”

Bucky sighed. “I swear this car is going to be the death of me.”

“Death by car modification,” Monty mused,  “sounds rather fun, actually.” He said, earning a chuckle from Bucky.

Somewhere on the makeshift drag strip, the scream of a 6-cylinder engine was heard and Bucky closed his eyes, taking in the sound. When the cars slowed to a roll at the end of the strip, Bucky opened his eyes again and shook his head.

“That car’s got a bum spark plug.”

“How’d you know?”

“Sounds like it” He shrugged.

Monty laughed. “Only you Doc, only you can tell what was wrong just from _listening_.”

The night went on and more cars lined up against each other. The betting pool was getting hot as the more experienced drivers started to take their turn and the rest of the crew, Tim, Jim and Jacques, soon joined Monty and Bucky.

“Hey, Doc, c’mere for a sec.” Tim called him over to the quieter side of the parking lot.

“What’s up?”

“So, uh, Rumlow came by the shop after we closed up, asking for you.” Tim said, earning a groan from Bucky. “He wanted me to pass along a message: that he’s really insistent on having you on board.”

Bucky squeezed the bridge of his nose in frustration before looking back up at Tim. “He said anything else? Did he give you any trouble?”

“No, he just said to pass along the message, and that he’ll come around to ‘check up’.”

“Alright, well,” Bucky sighed, “I’ll talk to him, make sure he won’t come around and bother the others.”

Before Tim could reply, two boys came by grabbing Bucky’s attention. “Hey man, you driving tonight? We gonna get the pool going, I’ll be bettin’ high on ya,” Billy asked.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, not in the mood.”

“Awh, c’mon Doc! I need a sure win, I’ve been getting my ass beat.” Teddy whined.

“Then you should probably quit while you still can, kid.” Bucky ruffled Teddy’s hair and shot a smirk at Billy before rejoining his friends by the strip.

By 3 in the morning, the crowd had dispersed, leaving only a handful of people still trying to come down from the high. Bucky and his crew were among those who stayed behind, including Peter Quill’s crew, the Guardians.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Doc, I don’t notice it at all. It felt great.” Peter insisted when Bucky told him that his car had just a bit too much torque.

“That’s ‘cause you know fuck all about driving, Quill. You only won tonight because your car is fast and the other guy was a chump.” Rocket took a jab at his crew leader.

“Just let me take a look at it, okay? It’s gonna bother me and I won’t be able to sleep,” Bucky bargained.  

“Alright fine, but it’s on the house, right? Since you insisted and all.” Peter wiggled his eyebrows.

“You don’t pay him anyway Quill, shut the fuck up.”

 

* * *

 

The Howling Commando Auto Shop was closed every Monday to give the guys a chance to recuperate from their weekend shenanigans, or in Tim’s case, to give him a chance to drive his daughters to school in the morning.

For Bucky, Mondays were for therapy and therapy meant working on his own car without interruption.

His beloved 1970 Dodge Charger had been a work in progress for almost 5 years and he was still nowhere near done. When George Barnes passed on his prized possession to his only son before he passed away, the car had only been a set of chassis and body. It had no interior, no engine, _nothing_ . Just a shell of a car waiting to be restored. So Bucky had been taking his time, making sure his calculations were correct, that he got the right– _and original_ –interior and knick-knacks because he knew that George appreciated the original classic.

It was the only day where he could get any peace and quiet. Living with three little sisters who do absolutely nothing but constantly bicker, his garage served as a safe haven. Rebecca called it his ‘man-cave’, and Bucky couldn’t even disagree, it was true after all.

So Mondays were _his_ and nobody could take it away from him.

Except maybe new customers who couldn’t read the working hours on the information board he had posted on the gate.

Bucky ignored the first knocks, hoping that whoever was on the other side of that gate would get their head out of their asses and read the information board, but when the banging got loud enough that it was heard over the music he was playing, Bucky had enough.

Grabbing the dirty t-shirt he used to wipe grease off his hands, he stalked to the front yard of the garage. He yanked the gate open and the groan of the old, heavy steel doors was loud and very unpleasant. Bucky was in the middle of making a mental note to get some grease in the joints when he was met with a _Sight._

Now, Bucky is a professional.

It was something that he strongly stressed to all his employees, because working in the service industry, they _will_ meet different kinds of people and most importantly, different tastes in style. It was important to stay professional and to always control facial expressions.

But Bucky is also human, which means, when being presented with a situation that was sorely unexpected, sometimes professionalism went out the window. If there were cameras around, Bucky was pretty sure they would catch him drooling over the piece of art presented before him.

“Holy fucking shit,” he muttered, eyes drinking in every single inch of surface available.

Bucky was not shallow, but he knew a good body when he saw one. He really did try to not look so eager but he was only a man who really liked what he saw.

Without even thinking, Bucky stepped forward and reached out. His fingers gently grazed the sculpted lines, smooth and hot to the touch. There were some uneven surfaces, he thought, smiling, but nothing he can’t work with. He was the best after all.

“Uh, hi?”

A deep voice startled Bucky back to reality, his outstretched hand was immediately pulled back and the smile on his face vanished. Bucky spun around, taking his attention away from the beauty of a car in front of him and saw a man; tall, blond, and looking at him with concern.

“Are you The Doctor?”

After being rendered temporarily mute from sheer embarrassment, Bucky quickly shook it off and slipped his game face on.

He cleared his throat. “Yes. James.”

“Right, I’m Grant.” He offered his hand, which Bucky pointedly ignored in favor of walking towards the car.

“Okay, Grant.” Bucky turned slightly to fully face him with his hands crossed in front of chest, hip gently rested against the car door. “Did you miss the information board posted on the gate, or did you see it and decide to ignore it?”

Grant’s face flushed red up to the tip of his ears as he looked down.

“I, uh, I did see it but I heard the music playing and I just thought–“

“You thought you’d bug the man on his day off?” Bucky supplied an answer.

When he saw Grant flushed even redder, he knew that he was being out of the way rude to him. Bucky was trying to counter the initial embarrassment that he came off as uncivil and offensive, and definitely unprofessional.

Bucky sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before letting his posture relax. “Sorry, that was… rude.”

“No, no, you’re right. I should’ve just driven back when I realized you were closed. Its just, to be honest, I don’t think this car would’ve made it back in one piece if I tried.”

“This yours?” Bucky pointed to the ’71 Nissan Skyline 2000 GT-R, famously known as the Hakosuka that was parked behind him.

Grant nodded.

Bucky whistled. “Damn.”

“I got this car about a month ago, I don’t really know what’s wrong with it but it doesn’t handle as well as it’s supposed to.”

“And you came here?” Bucky looked up from where he was crouching down, inspecting the grill, where the GT-R logo was supposed to sit but it was missing.

“I Googled, your garage was suggested first.” Grant shrugged.

Bucky let out a breath that could pass for a chuckle, not that he would ever admit it. He knew that if he blew this off, the chance to work on the legendary Hakosuka won’t come knocking on his door, quite literally, ever again.  At the same time, he was already off to a rocky start with Grant and it was one of the things that he took very seriously. A relationship with the car owner is just as important, if not more, than the actual fix job because it actually affects the outcome of the car.

But at the end of the day, it was a ’71 Hakosuka, and he wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

“Alright.” Bucky stood up, dusted off his hands on the back of his pants.

“Alright?”

“I’ll take your car in, but you’re gonna have to come back tomorrow. I’m locked out of the system so I can’t check your car in, since you know, we’re closed today.”

Grant frowned before quickly catching himself and schooled his expression to a smile. “Thanks, that’s great, I really appreciate it.”

“Wow, sounded real sincere there pal.” Bucky couldn’t help but to snap, he wasn’t going to take shit from this guy, legendary car or not.

“No, it’s just–“ Grant ran his hand through his hair, “can I just leave it here and take an Uber home or something? I really don’t want this thing to break down in the middle of the road.”

Bucky frowned. This was against policy because he won’t be able to provide Grant with a receipt and if anything bad were to happen, he would be liable to a lawsuit.

But Grant literally looked like a kicked puppy and Bucky couldn’t deal with grown ass men who _pouted._

“I can’t give you a receipt or anything.”

Grant waved him off. “That’s fine, I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

It was _really_ against his policy, but Bucky was already making up a list of things he would like to do to this car the second Grant left.

“Alright, let me just see some ID, so I know you’re who you say you are.”

Grant stilled for a second before pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. “Here you go.”

Bucky studied the ID, glancing back and forth between the man and the card a couple of times before he handed it back. “Okay, Grant Joseph, be back tomorrow morning at 10 to fill out the forms.”

“Great, this is great. Thanks so much.” He said, this time with a wide smile on his face.

“Okay, well, you can park your car there and wait inside until your Uber comes.”

After parking the car in its designated space, Grant stepped away to call for an Uber while Bucky retreated inside the garage. He purposely stayed at a distance to avoid the awkward attempt at a small talk and it seemed like Grant had the same idea. He leaned against the trunk of the car as he waited for the Uber to come and kept busy by playing around with his phone.

Bucky took the time to clean up the tools he was using and cover back up his Dodge Charger, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to work on it today while his attention was already focused on the Hakosuka.

When Grant finally left, Bucky locked the gate and immediately shot Tim a message.

 

 

 

> **Bucky:**
> 
> **_u’ll never believe what just came into the shop._ **
> 
> **_ur gonna shit ur pants._ **

 

* * *

 

“I’m telling you man, this shit right here is what dreams are made of.” Jim ran his hands on the hood of the Hakosuka, similar to what Bucky did when he first saw it. “Just a chunk of brilliant Japanese engineering, right here.” He beamed.

“I don’t get it.” Gabe said with a hidden smirk, trying to get a rise out of Jim.

“What’s not to get? This car is what put Nissan on the map! This is the car that everybody wanted, this is car broke _records_ Jones, please, educate yourself.”

Bucky watched the exchange from a distance with a smile. Sometimes he felt like a school teacher with a class full of rowdy little boys, it got to be a handful at times but he wouldn’t trade this kind of easiness and camaraderie for anything else.

“Alright boys, break it up.” Bucky intervened, making ‘shoo-ing’ motions with his hands. “Gabe, you’re a little shit. Jim, you’re too easy to rile up, no wonder Gabe picks on you all the time.”

“Hey, I’m just defending this baby’s honor!” Jim protested.

“You said that about every car that got sent over here.” Gabe retorted with an eye-roll, though there was no heat to it.

Jim was about to reply but Bucky immediately interjected. “Hey! Back to work!”

“Hey, Doc, where is this guy anyway? You told him to come back this morning, right?” Tim came up to Bucky’s side.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be here.” He wasn’t sure whom he was trying to convince when he said that because there was that little twist in the pit of his stomach when he realized that he might’ve put himself and the garage in trouble.

These things happen, unfortunately. Not only to his garage particularly, but he has had poor experiences of blindly trusting ‘potential’ customers only to realize that they were inadvertently involved in a crime.

“This isn’t going to be like that last time is it?” Tim deadpanned.

Bucky glared at Tim but didn’t say anything.

_He’ll come_ . Bucky assured himself. _This isn’t going to be like last time_.

Bucky kept busy by starting to work on his client list for the day to keep his mind off of the possibility of being scammed, while simultaneously trying to figure out how to get rid of the car without drawing attention to him or the garage.

In case it really was just an evidence dump.

He wasn’t a pessimist. He’s just preparing for the worst-case scenario.

It wasn’t until an hour or so after lunch that he heard a car pulling up to the parking lot and found a very flustered looking Grant Joseph coming out of the driver seat.

“I’m so sorry,” he said as soon as he was face to face with Bucky. “I had a last minute work emergency and I was going to call you but I realized I didn’t have your number.” He rambled off, face getting redder with each word, because Bucky just stood there with his arms crossed in front of him, scowling.

“We work by appointments here, because as you can see,” Bucky gestured to the bustling garage, “we’re quite busy.”

Grant got even redder.

“I’m working on another car right now.” Bucky said with sharp eyes, but a leveled voice. “You’re welcome to wait upstairs, if you still want to your car to get checked out.”

“Yes, yes of course, I’ll wait upstairs.” Grant gave him another apologetic smile before going up to the air-conditioned main office.

Once Grant was gone, Bucky couldn’t help but to breathe a breath of relief. It was ridiculous, he realized, the way he was so worked up about the whole thing but he couldn’t help the nasty bubble of anxiety in the pit of his stomach coming up when things don’t go as planned.

Not only did Grant put Bucky on the spot the day before by asking him to take his car without the proper protocol, he missed their agreed time. Worst of all, he brought up the intense feeling of paranoia that comes with his daily dose of anxiety.

And that pissed him off real bad.

His scheduled his clients and appointments neatly each day, leaving an open spot for walk-ins towards the end of the day. It was a system that he developed not long after the garage opened because at the beginning he was easily overwhelmed by the number of people coming in. He felt that a schedule was needed to tame down his anxiety and to leave as little room as possible for mix-ups and errors.

Grant not only managed to disrupt his schedule, he also amped up Bucky’s anxiety so much that it made him unable to focus. At one point, it had gotten so bad that he had to re-do  4 hours worth of work because he couldn’t remember what he was doing.

Bucky right then decided he wasn’t going to like Grant.

The rest of Bucky’s day went by without any unpleasant incident, but Bucky couldn’t shake off the dark clouds hanging above him. He spent the day waiting for the storm to start, if it was even going to start.

Bucky went up to the office two hours before closing time and for a good second he had completely forgotten Grant was still there. His calm composure completely shattered when Grant suddenly jumped to his feet from a sitting position when Bucky walked in.

“Hey!” Grant said excitedly as he stood up, nearly knocking the plastic fern that Becca had put in to make the office look more ‘alive’.

The look on Bucky’s face could pass as murderous as he subtly rubbed his chest in an attempt to calm down his erratic heartbeat.

“You’re still here.” Bucky said after a few beats of awkward silence.

Grant didn’t bother to hide the surprise on his face at Bucky’s remark. “Uh… You told me to wait up here, so I– uh… Am I not supposed to wait here?”

Bucky shrugged. “No, I just didn’t expect you would actually wait four hours to see me.”

When Grant didn’t say anything, Bucky redirected the conversation. “Did you fill out the forms?”

Grant nodded. “Yeah, gave it to the lady at the desk. Kate, I think?”

“Okay, wait here.”

Bucky went to the back room where the employees lounge was set up and promptly threw himself onto one of the couches.

“ _Fuuuuuuuuuck_.” Bucky groaned with his eyes closed.

“You okay?” Kate asked, passing Bucky on her way back to her desk outside.

He mumbled an answer before sitting back up. “Yeah.” He rubbed his eyes before getting on his feet. “I need the form for the Hakosuka.”

“Yeah, sure, it’s on my desk.” Kate studied Bucky. “Hey Doc, why don’t you go freshen up a little bit, that might help.” She gave him a brief smile before closing the door behind her.

Bucky felt better when he came back out to the waiting room, not by much, but it helped when he had to deal with the very source of his bad day.  Grant was still sitting patiently on one of the couches, with a little moleskin book and a 2B pencil.

“Sorry for the wait.” Bucky said when he re-emerged from the back room. Kate handed him Grant’s forms when he walk passed her desk and he headed straight for the door. “Let’s do this downstairs, I wanna get a good look at the car.”

Grant nodded before standing up and pocketing his book.

“So tell me what’s wrong with the car.” Bucky asked as they rounded the Hakosuka.

Grant started explaining what was wrong with the car, from the sound of the engine to the way the interior looks, occasionally stopping to let Bucky inspect the areas himself.

“What are you going to use the car for?” Bucky asked, jotting down short anecdotes on the pages.

“Uh–“

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m not being nosy, alright, you told me you wanted my input on what parts to put in, so I need to know what this car is going to be used for. Like, are you going to use it for daily commute? For Sunday rides only? To race? It makes a world of a difference.”

Grant nodded. “Uh, daily commute, I guess? Maybe special occasions.”

“Alright. See, wasn’t so hard, was it?” Bucky muttered.

From where Bucky was standing, nose buried in his notes, he heard a soft sigh from Grant.

“Hey, look, I’m really sorry alright? I know it doesn’t mean shit but this morning I was already up and ready to come back here, but then work called and I had to fix a few things that went to shit.” Grant looked down at his shoes before squaring up to look Bucky in the eye. “If you don’t feel like doing my car then that’s fine, I’ll just take it off your hands and go.”

Grant’s sad-puppy expression would’ve made Bucky feel horrible on a normal day, and he would definitely have stopped himself the moment he realized he stepped out of line, but with the way everything had gone down that day, he definitely wasn’t himself.

“Don’t be dramatic, alright. I’m not going to punish your car for the way you conduct yourself. It’s nothing personal.” Bucky rolled his eyes and went back to his notes. “I’ll give you the estimate in about two days, I’ll have Kate or Becca call you and let you know. Do you have a specific budget you need to stick to?”

Taken aback by the sharp change of subject, Grant physically took a half-step back before regaining his composure and cleared his throat. “No. No budget.”

“Great.” Bucky clicked the pen closed. “Now, is there anything else I can help you with before we close up shop?”

“No, I’m good.”  Grant shook his head with a sad smile. “Thank you, for seeing me today.” He said in lieu of a goodbye and started to walk out of the main floor of the garage.

_Yeah, yeah,_ Bucky said to himself, _I’m an absolute dick._

 

* * *

 

Bucky preferred his customers to be as hands on as possible with their cars, so he would send them updates and reports on the day’s work. More often than not, his customers would actually be present the entire time Bucky worked, and since Bucky wasn’t the type to require undivided attention to get the job done, he appreciated the company.

Two days after Grant’s visit, Bucky called him personally to discuss fees and modification plans for the car. He also wanted to fix the already fucked up relationship between them and he was going to apologize in person when he came for his appointment, but Grant didn’t show up, citing emergency work travels for missing the scheduled appointment.

It wasn’t that Bucky was arrogant, no. He just really valued his time and he lived by the principle that lost time is not something you could ever gain back. By Grant cancelling on him multiple times, he lost time to take on other customers, which by the way, were piling on the waiting list.

“It’s nothing personal, really, I just don’t like people like him.” Bucky huffed as he polished the top of an engine block clean.

“People like him.” Becca retorted.

“Yes! People who think that the world revolves around them and that other people’s schedule and activities won’t be affected when they cancel last minute and reschedule for the next day, only to cancel _again_ and repeat the same shit.” Bucky threw the dirty cloth to the floor and grabbed a clean one.

“Maybe he’s _that_ busy.”

“Well damn, so am I, but do you see me cancelling appointments left and right?”

Becca groaned from the stack of tires she was sitting on. “Can we _pleaseee_ talk about something else? I’m just about done listening to you moaning about the hot blondie.”

Bucky spun around to face his little sister and pointed an accusatory finger. “I never said he was hot.”

“No, but we have security cameras and I have eyes.” Becca grinned. “He’s totally your type though, don’t even dare deny it.”

“Shut up.” He grumbled. “Why were you even looking at the camera feed anyway?”

“Kate told me you wouldn’t stop glooming around ever since hottie came by. I had to check and of course, I was right.”

“Oh fuck off.” Bucky muttered and left Becca to the back room to get more polish solution.

He was walking back to the main floor of the garage when he saw two black Cadillacs pulling into the parking lot. He noticed the bulletproof tinted windows, and the way the car dipped low, suggesting reinforcement, Bucky recognized the cars all too well and in an instant that twist in the pit of his stomach came back in full swing.

“Becks, go upstairs.”

“Why?”

Bucky glared at Becca and snapped. “Go upstairs. _Now_.”

Following her brother’s line of sight, Becca’s eyes widened and she immediately hopped off the stack of tires and went upstairs to the main office, with no doubt that she would be peeking through the curtains.

Not wanting any trouble inside the garage, Bucky met the car halfway out the parking lot. The car doors open in unison and out came guys dressed in all black with a single Glock holstered in their hips, not bothering to cover up the fact that they were all armed. They all stood around the car in standby save for one, Brock Rumlow.

“Doc!” He greeted with a smile, one that Bucky knew wasn’t the least bit sincere. “You’re a tough man to find.”

Bucky shrugged in casual disinterest. “Been here, like always.”

“Funny, seemed like we kept missing you whenever we came around.” Brock gave him another one of those smiles; it made Bucky’s hackles rise in discomfort.

“Poor timing, I guess.”

“I guess.” Brock scoffed before schooling his expression back to friendly. “Why don’t we go inside, Doc, we have a lot to talk about.”

Before Brock could make his way into the main floor, Bucky put a hand on his chest that stopped him from moving. “Sorry, no guns in the shop.”

For a split second Brock looked like he was going to put up a fight, but instead, he took a step back and raised both hands as if surrendering. “Well, I guess we’ll talk here then. ‘M sure you won’t mind, I like having my guns with me, makes me feel safe.”

“Sure.” Bucky replied flatly.

Brock casually leaned back against the hood of his Caddy. “Well, I guess you have a pretty good idea on why I’m here.”

“Uh huh, and I’m pretty sure you have a pretty good idea on what my answer would be.” Bucky answered.

“You know it’s not that simple.” Brock said with a smug smile. He pushed himself off the car and took a step closer to where Bucky was standing. “I’m sure you’re aware of the debt you still owe us.”

Bucky clenched his jaw so tight he could hear his teeth grinding. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“Conditions changed,” Brock shrugged. “Boss man wants the job done and he’s not taking _no_ for an answer.”

“I told you I’m out.” Bucky shook his head in frustration. “I’ve _been_ out for a long time. I don’t do that shit anymore.”

“Look at you!” Brock laughed at his answer. “Talkin’ like you got a choice.” He looked back to the rest of his entourage who laughed in support. “It’s pretty simple, the way I see it, because I’d hate to see something bad happen to this place. I know how much this place means to you, especially since daddy dearest isn’t with us anymore.”

At the mention of his late father, all he saw was red. Bucky didn’t realize that he was moving forward with clenched fists until he felt a hand holding him back. He looked back to see Monty standing behind him; face equally red with anger and arms tightly gripping Bucky’s.

Brock smiled smugly at them both. “Think about it. When you figure out what you want, you know where to find me.”

Just like that, the guys piled back up into the Caddys and sped off the garage parking lot, leaving Bucky a heaving mess of anger and Monty trying to calm his boss down.

“We’ll figure this out, Doc, don’t worry.” Monty said as he rubbed Bucky’s back, but Bucky wasn’t having it. He lashed out his arm, roughly brushing off Monty’s hands from his back.

“What the fuck is there to figure out, Falsworth? You don’t know shit.” He spat.

Monty took a step back but maintained a calm expression. If he was offended, he didn’t show it. “You’re right, Doc, I don’t know shit. But you definitely don’t know me if you think I’m letting you work this shit alone. That’s not how we work.”

Those comforting words washed Bucky like a cold bucket of ice water. It sobered him up enough to realize how shitty he was being. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Monty stepped to Bucky and put a hand on the small of his back, guiding him back inside the garage. “C’mon, Becca’s worried sick.”

“She saw?” Bucky asked as they both walked.

Monty nodded. “She told me, good thing I came in at the right time. Pretty sure you were about to sock him right on the jaw.”

A dark chuckle escaped from Bucky’s lips. “Can you blame me though?”

“Nope.”

 

* * *

 

The days following that incident, Bucky kept his head down and stayed in the shop, even at night. He told his Ma and Becca that he was working on a special project that required him to work a lot of overtime, thankfully, he’d done this too many times to raise any concerns from his family.

“Hey Doc, come out tonight.” Jim Morita peeked his head through the open door of Bucky’s office. “Just got the text, they’re setting up down at the sticks.”

Bucky looked up from the stack of invoices on his desk. “Nah, you go ahead, I got a lot to catch up on.”

Jim let out a _‘tsk’_ before he let himself in and plopped down on one of the chairs. “C’mon Doc, you’ve been buried in paperwork all day. You need to let off some steam.”

Bucky only chuckled in response but a thought immediately came to mind: a stretch of smooth asphalt, the smell of hot rubber, the hiss of a turbo blow off valve going off.

“That a yes?” Jim leaned forward, grinning from ear to ear. “C’mon Doc, just picture this alright: you getting back behind the ‘Stang, smoking all those wanna be bastards, they’d be chanting your name by the end of the night! Guaranteed.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but there was a slight pull on the corners of his lip. “Alright, alright, fine. Let me just clean this shit up and I’ll meet you down there.”

“Yes!” Jim jumped off the seat and headed out the door before bounding down the stairs, yelling out the good news to the rest of the crew.

The race was packed with more drivers than the last one Bucky went to, he could see some old friends gathering around as well as new players in the mix. A small smile appeared on his face. He was going to have some fun.

Bucky parked his ’67 Mustang Fastback a little bit out of the way. He wasn’t going to jump straight into the race, he was going to take his time to study the players, get a feel of the atmosphere.

He saw a lot of his friends mixing around, the Guardians were mingling with the Ragnarök crew, his Commandos were talking to a few of Vulture’s crew; it was a packed house.

“Buck-eye!” A shout above the noise brought his attention to the start of the strip, where the betting pool was set up. His eyes scanned the area until he was met with a familiar sight.

Bucky made his way to the strip, where Wanda and her girlfriend Hanna were standing. “Wanda,” he said with a wide grin. “I’ve missed you, kiddo!”

“Me too.” Wanda pulled Bucky into a bear hug, squishing her face into his chest. “Pietro is here too.”

“Yeah? He gonna race tonight?”

Wanda nodded. “He’s gonna try out a new program we’ve been working on.”

“Yeah?”

“They’ve been working on this for almost 2 months, I barely see her.”  Hanna rolled her eyes.

Bucky chuckled.

“Come by the Cave after this, I’ll show you all the new stuff.” Wanda said with excitement.

“We’ll see alright, I’m looking to blow off steam tonight. Wish me luck,” Bucky said as he began to walk backwards, away from the couple.

“You don’t need it!”

Bucky wandered around for a good hour before he put his name down on the list. He saw some good competition on the roster and he knew was going to have to give it all tonight if he wanted to come home with at least a few grand.

The first challenge came from one of the Ragnarök crew, Hogun. Bucky’s Mustang won the race by a good few seconds ahead of Hogun’s Honda Civic, earning him two grand from the pool. His second challenge came from his own crew, Gabe Jones and his trusted Dodge Challenger. Bucky won by two lengths but split the cash with Jones in solidarity.

The night took a turn when Pietro and his Nissan Skyline R-34 beat Bucky’s best time by nearly two seconds in a race against Guardian’s Drax. Bucky knew that whatever program Wanda and Pietro had been cooking helped him win that race, but he was still miffed at the fact that his best record was beaten. He broke that personal best two years ago when he finished building the ’67 Fastback and no one even came close to beating his record time.

“Please don’t hate me. I swear I wasn’t even aiming to break the record.” Pietro came barreling down the strip to where Bucky and Monty were watching the race, panting and red-faced.

Bucky couldn’t help but to laugh out loud. “Don’t worry about it kid, I’m sure I’ll get you back soon.”

“How much did you win for that?” Monty referred to Pietro’s bulging pocket.

With a sheepish smile, Pietro answered “Five grand.”

“Nice! Go treat your sister something good,” Bucky clapped the boy on the shoulder.

“Come by the Cave later, please? I’ll show you everything we’ve been working on, it’s gonna blow your mind,” Pietro plead.

“Alright, sure, I’ll come by when the race is over. I gotta win some of that dignity back, you smoked me out there.”

With an excited grin, Pietro ran back to his sister and her girlfriend before shoving them into his Skyline and sped off back to the Cave.

Bucky won four more races by the end of the night and pocketed about 7 grand after he split some with his crewmates. He thought about going straight home and texting Pietro that he wouldn’t make it to the Cave but he remembered how long it has been since the last time they all saw each other, so he began his way to the Cave before he could change his mind.

The Cave was a nondescript, run down industrial building in East LA. The walls were plain cement gray; the windows were tinted dark with some of them covered by wood planks. The sight never failed to make Bucky smile because it was smart the way the building was dressed up. Nobody would’ve thought that one of LA’s most secret community was occupying the building.

He lit up a stick as he waited for Pietro to open the coded steel door from the inside, making sure that his headlights were turned off to avoid unwanted attention. Not that it mattered, to be completely honest, the neighborhood was the ‘see nothing, hear nothing, say nothing’ type.

“Hey! C’mon in, we saved you a parking spot.” Pietro waved in from inside the building, guiding him to an open space in the lot.

Don Omar blared from the sound system though a dimly lit hallway that eventually ended in an open space. Bucky was immediately welcomed with the sight of five cars in various state of assembly laying across the open floor. Half a dozen people worked feverishly on their own laptops while white wisps of marijuana smoke wafted from the joints resting on the ashtrays.

Bucky studied his surroundings. The last time he was here was at least four months ago and while the place stayed the same, it was also different. There were cans of Red Bulls and cigarette butts on the floor, that one was a constant, but there was a new server rack that covered the back wall. Ethernet cables in varying different colors snaked out of it.

Pietro led Bucky into his R-35 near the back and found Wanda sitting on the floor, fiddling with her laptop with a cable running into a custom engineered T-Box, plugged directly into the CAN interface of the car.

“Hey Wan.” Bucky greeted the girl, who barely noticed Bucky standing in front of her with her head buried in complex codes. He noticed Wanda’s girlfriend Hanna was asleep in one of the couches  pushed back against the walls.

“Hey.” She mumbled a reply, not bothering to look up.

“Leave her be, she’s working on a kink.” Pietro waved her off.

“So,” Bucky gestured around his arm wide open. “This is how you beat my record? You _hacked_ your car?”

That reaction evoked a shit-eating grin from Pietro. “We broke the code, man! We’re combining mechanical engineering with some computer mastery. A little brother-sister magic, if you will.”

“Okay,” Bucky nodded. “Tell me more.”

The two took a spot on another couch, occasionally getting up to take a closer look at the car or the equipment. Pietro explained how his love for mechanical engineering blurred together with Wanda’s passion for computer programming.  The conversation drifted from programming to car modification, to girls, and eventually they circle back to car programming. Sometime in the middle of the conversation, Bucky emptied his Lucky Strike pack and accepted a joint from Pietro.

“So,” Pietro took a long, meaningful drag from the shared joint. “What’re you gonna do about Rumlow?” He asked after a couple beats of silence.

Bucky turned to face Pietro. “What? Who–“

“Becca.” Pietro said. “She told Wanda, Wanda told me.”

“That little shit.” Bucky muttered, taking the joint from Pietro’s hand. “I don’t know, I don’t wanna talk about it.” His jaw tightened and eyes darkened when he remembered the conversation with Rumlow.  

“You know keepin’ that shit bottled up ain’t gonna do you any good, right?” Pietro peered up from behind his bangs. “Besides, I’m not Becca, you don’t have to sugarcoat it for me.”

Bucky exhaled a lungful of smoke, feeling weightless for a second as he leaned back against the concrete walls. “He wants me to drive for them again. I told him I’m out but he won’t listen.”  

“Did he say what for?”

“Same thing, transport.” Bucky sighed.

“Shit.” Pietro took another drag. “That’s fucked up. Becca said they threatened the garage?”

Bucky nodded and took another hit.

“And what about the blond hottie?” Pietro asked, Bucky could hear the smirk clearly without even looking.

“I’m gonna kill that little shit, I swear.” Bucky shook his head with an embarrassed chuckle. “He’s just an ass who doesn’t appreciate people’s time. Not gonna waste my breath on that one.”

“So she said.” Pietro laughed when Bucky smacked him upside the head.

“I’m gonna head back, I’m beat.” Bucky groaned as he stood up. He noticed the clock on top of the server rack read 4 AM and groaned.

“Just crash here, take one of the couches.” Pietro pointed to the wall and Bucky saw an empty couch, next to where Wanda was curling up with Hanna, fast asleep.

Bucky thought about it for a second but before he could say anything, he found himself dragging his tired feet to the back and face-planted onto one of the couches. The last thing he heard was Pietro’s laugh before falling asleep almost instantly.

 

* * *

 

Grant finally showed up at the shop on a Tuesday morning, 10 AM on the dot. Bucky suspected that Grant was there before the gates were even opened, but then he thought nobody is _that_ weird.

“Hey.”

Bucky looked up from the work order checklist and saw Grant standing there with two to-go cups of coffee from a nearby café that Bucky never went to.

“Hi.” Bucky replied.

“I, uh, I called in yesterday for an appointment.” Grant stepped closer to Bucky. “Work has been killing me this past week, I haven’t had the chance to swing by.”

“Yeah well, at least you called ahead this time.” Bucky rolled his eyes but there wasn’t any heat to it.

“Here, uh, I got you coffee.” Grant said with a face that screams ‘this is weird, I regret this so much’. “I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just ordered black.”

Bucky couldn’t help but to snort at the awkwardness, but took the coffee anyway. “Thanks.”

He studied Grant’s appearance as he took small sips of his coffee–it was a little too acidic, and Bucky noticed the prominent dark circles under Grant’s eyes. He was well dressed, like usual, but Bucky noticed a slight difference in the way Grant carried himself. He wasn’t as bright and smiley as he usually was and Bucky was worried that his behavior had caused that. Because as much as he disliked the guy for what he did, Bucky didn’t actually want to cause him emotional pain.

Grant cleared his throat. “So, how’s the car doing?”

Bucky walked over to where the car was parked and pulled off the cover to show the car with most of its panels stripped off and the engine bay empty.

“We’re splitting the workload, Gabe is working on the panels, straightening the bumps. Jacques is working on a plan to tackle the interior; you might wanna talk to him about how you want it to look.” Bucky rounded the car. “As for the engine, I’ve managed to get a good chunk of it done, I just need to put it back in.”

“So what did you end up doing about the parts that were discontinued?” Grant asked.

“I used some from the new GT-R, it should work fine.”

Grant nodded and rounded the car, taking all the changes in, while Bucky stayed a few steps behind to give him some space. Bucky took another sip of his coffee and his gaze ended up back at Grant. The initial worry that Bucky felt when he saw Grant’s appearance had grown into a full-on guilt the more he took in the sight of the man in front of him. He realized that he hadn’t given Grant enough chance to just _be_ ; he was too preoccupied with hating the guy that he didn’t actually take any time to get to know him.

He knew he needed to apologize. He couldn’t just let it go and pretend like nothing had happened. His Ma would wring his neck if she knew what was going on.

“James?”

He snapped out of his thought and found Grant looking at him oddly. “Yeah? Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I asked you how long do you think this will take? Like, do you have a timeline?”

“Oh, uh, I estimated the work to take about a month, at the most? So if everything goes as planned, it should be finished early next month.”

Grant only nodded in reply and the two fell into a somewhat awkward silence. Grant pretended to still be interested in his picked-apart car, while Bucky had his hand in his pocket, looking around the garage.

_This is stupid_ , Bucky thought. He cleared his throat and lowered his pride because he was going to take this opportunity to make things right.

“So, uh, I wanted to apologize,” Bucky said, causing Grant’s eyebrows to shoot up to his hairline. “I was a complete dick the last few times we met. I was going through some stuff but I had no right taking it out on you. So, I’m really sorry.”

Grant stayed quiet for a few beats before breaking out into a smile. “It’s okay, thank you for apologizing.”

“Yeah, it’s–uh… I’m not normally _that_ unprofessional.” Bucky chuckled, trying to lighten the conversation.

“Well, that’s great to–“

Bucky followed Grant’s line of sight to see what distracted him from finishing his sentence and found Rumlow standing by his car with his arms crossed.

“Uh, is that– are you expecting anyone?” Grant pointed towards the man.

“No.” Bucky gritted his teeth. “I’ll be right back, stay here.”

Bucky stalked towards the parking lot where Rumlow was standing, smirking at Bucky like a predator at a prey. On the corner of his eyes, Bucky saw Monty and Gabe getting up to follow him out, but he made an abort movement before they could catch up.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asked when he was close enough to Rumlow.

“Aw,” Rumlow pouted. “No ‘hello’ for me?”

“I’m busy.” Bucky replied.  “What do you want?”

“This whole playing-hard-to-get thing is getting old, Doc. Boss man wants to see you, get you up to speed and shit.”

Bucky’s hands closed into fists before he gritted out. “I’m not doing it, I told you.”

Rumlow rolled his eyes. “You think I care about what you want? Hell, you think I want to be here? I’m just here because the boss asked me to, and you know what the boss wants, the boss gets.”

“Tell him I’m out, then. I got out for a reason, I ain’t comin’ back to that.”

Rumlow scoffed before he advanced towards Bucky, putting them nose-to-nose. “Listen here you little shit, I’m not your messenger boy, alright? I’m here to get you in and I’ll do whatever it takes.”  

“Get out of my face.” Bucky snapped before pushing Rumlow away, making him stumble backwards against his car.

Bucky saw Rumlow’s jaw clenched but before Rumlow could jump at Bucky, there was a figure blocking his path. Grant stood with his back to Bucky and right hand shielding him from Rumlow. His posture was tense but steady.

“Is there a problem?” Grant spoke lowly, arm still hovering by Bucky’s side.

Rumlow chuckled darkly. “Oh, the boyfriend comes to the rescue.”

Bucky quickly side-stepped Grant’s body and slipped himself between the two. “For the last time, _Brock_ ,” Bucky spat Rumlow’s name with venom. “I’m not doing it. Tell Pierce I’m out.”

Rumlow narrowed his eyes at Bucky and Grant before retreating. “We’ll see about that.” Rumlow walked back to the driver’s side of the car. “You just pissed me off Barnes, you’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that.” He called out before getting into the car and sped away.

Once the car was out of view, Bucky released a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding before he turned around and glared at Grant.

“Now you.” He pointed at Grant. “You’re a piece of work, aren't cha.” Bucky snapped through his clenched jaw, trying his hardest to not explode at his client.

“What?” Grant replied, stunned at Bucky’s accusation.

“You need to learn to mind your own fucking business. What the fuck was that?”

“I just saved your ass back there. How about a thank you?” Grant retorted.

Bucky squared up to Grant, jaws clenched and eyes borderline murderous. “That’s where you’re wrong, pal. I don’t need saving.” He growled. “Get out of my garage.”

“Wh–“

“And here I thought we were finally on the same page.” Bucky chuckled darkly. “You need to leave before I act even more unprofessional.”

“Fine!” Grant threw his hands in exasperation. “Just so you know, you’re not just being unprofessional, you’re being a fucking child.”

“Get out!” Bucky shouted.

“Oh, grow up!” Grant shouted over his shoulder as he walked out.

Bucky didn’t bother to stay and watch Grant pulling away from the parking garage in his black Suburban, instead, he went straight to the back office and slammed the door shut.

Bucky resisted the urge to flip over his desk, knowing that the clean up would be another headache to deal with, so he settled down at his chair and tugged at his hair as hard as he could without pulling it clean off by the roots.

He knew that Rumlow wouldn’t stop harassing him unless he came in to report for duty. Bucky thought about it sometimes, when it got too difficult to sleep, maybe coming in for one more job wouldn’t hurt so bad. The money was definitely good, he could even start expanding the garage like he always planned to do.

Then he remembered that the anxiety and the paranoia of working with someone like Pierce wasn’t worth any amount of money in the world. Not to mention that he’d be feeding his family dirty money, and the thought of that was enough to make Bucky want to gag.

“Doc?”

The sound of blood rushing inside his body was so loud in his ears; he completely missed Monty standing by the doorway, arms crossed and face concerned.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Bucky looked up, elbows rested on both knees.

“Take the rest of the day off.” He suggested gently. “You know you’re no good working like this, it’ll only make things worse.”

Normally Bucky would put up a fight at such suggestion but he was going out of his mind that he couldn’t think of anything to say. “Yeah, okay.”

Bucky took a couple of minutes to get himself together before gathering his things and changing out of his permanently dirty work overalls. He avoided the stares of his crew when he made his way down to the staff parking lot and slid into his Mustang. Bucky fished out his phone from his pocket, typing a quick text before flooring the gas pedal straight to East LA.

 

 

 

> **Bucky:**
> 
> **_I’m coming over._ **
> 
> **Pietro:**
> 
> **_Cool. I’ll save u a joint._ **

 

* * *

 

The thing he loved the most about being in the Cave was that it doesn’t matter what time of day it was, it would always feel like it's dark out. The second he stepped into the building there was no telling that it was only midday outside, the only source of illumination was from the neon lights that Pietro installed. It was disorienting at first but after a couple of times being inside the Cave, the constant darkness was calming and isolating, in a good way.

“God, I love this place.” Bucky murmured before exhaling a cloud of smoke and went limp against the couch cushion.

Pietro chuckled from the floor next to him. “If you listened to me and got into the bitcoin hype, you could have all this with no headache.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and passed the joint.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” Pietro asked lightly, taking a long drag.

“No.”

“You sure?” Pietro exhaled.

“Yeah.” Bucky readjusted his position on the couch. “I don’t know, maybe later. I just need to fucking not think for a while.”

Pietro stood up and dusted his pants. “Alright, you wanna help me tinker with this baby?” He gestured to the yellow RX-7 parked nearby. Bucky noticed the hood was taken off.

“You fucking around with rotary engines now?” Bucky sat up, intrigued.

“Hell yeah, c’mon.”

Pietro managed to distract Bucky from the day’s incident by piling work on him. They were taking apart the rotary engine and even with Bucky’s and Pietro’s combined experience and knowledge, it was a difficult task to accomplish.

“Man, most of these parts are jammed together, I might lose an arm taking this apart.” Bucky complained.

“Is this–“ Pietro shone a flashlight to the engine bay. “Dude, someone super-glued the bolts together.” Pietro snorted in disbelief.

“Man, where the fuck did you get this junk.” Bucky attempted to wipe his grease-stained hands onto a dirty rag before giving up completely.

“Oh my God, did he buy another shitbox to tinker with?”

Bucky whipped his head around and found Wanda and Hanna standing behind them, amusement in Hanna’s face, annoyance in Wanda’s.

“Ah! Sister! Great timing, I need help with…” Pietro trailed off, dragging Wanda to another car that was parked a little out of the way with cables coming out of it’s ECU.

“He’s been cooped up in this place for almost a week. Wanda had to force feed him pizza last night,” Hanna explained almost lazily as they both watch Pietro with bewilderment.

Bucky turned his attention to the petite young woman next to him and a smile broke out when he realized it. “Han? Are you high?”

Hanna looked up at Bucky laxly and grinned. “Shh.” She put her finger on her lips and giggled before leaving Bucky to join Wanda.

And it all went downhill from there.

As the day wore on, more people came in. Some kept to themselves and worked on their own stuff, while some joined Pietro and Bucky, bringing beers and booze. At one point, someone popped open a bottle of Cuervo and started passing around the bottle.

Bucky was pleasantly tipsy when Pietro lit up another joint, generously sharing it around the group. By nightfall, he was loose-limbed and laughing, completely forgetting the real reason he drove out to the other side of the city in the first place.

Bucky was half-listening to another one of Pietro’s rambling when he heard the unmistakable low rumble of a 4-stroke engine that could only belong to a Suzuki Hayabusa. His eyes perked up at the sound and immediately scanned the area.

“Is that Natalia?” Bucky cut Pietro off.

“Uh,” Pietro looked around. “Maybe? She did say she was coming by tonight. Or was it yesterday? Wait, what day is it?”

When the engine shut off, the sound was immediately followed by the clacking noise of a high-heeled boot that very much confirmed Bucky’s suspicion, because who else rides the world's fastest production motorcycle with high-heeled boots if not Natalia Romanova.

“ _Yasha_ ,” She said affectionately when she saw Bucky sprawled on the couch. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“He’s here to have a good time and forget real life,” Pietro grinned. “He’s been like this all night.”

Natalia smiled and took a seat on Bucky’s couch, picking up his legs before putting them down on her thighs. “I haven’t seen you in forever, what have you been up to?” She asked with her heavy Russian accent. Even after almost 10 years of living in America, she refused to let it go.

Bucky smiled lazily at the redhead. “Working.”

“Always working,” She rolled her eyes. “You’re wasting away your youth, for what? Money? _Psh_.”

“Easy for you to say, your father practically owns the Russian mob on the entire West Coast.” Pietro snorted.

“Alright; _Natashenka_ ,” Bucky pushed himself up on his elbow and smirked. “Show me a good time, then.” Even in his inebriated state, he knew the line was cheesy as fuck, but it seemed to work in his favor when he saw Natalia mirrored his smirk and pulled out a little baggie from the inside pocket of her leather jacket.

“Aw, yes!” Pietro scrambled off the floor to get closer to Natalia.

“What’s that?” Bucky asked.

“I got…” Natalia hummed as she examined the contents of her baggie, which apparently contained two smaller baggies. “E and Special K.”

“Oh sweet, gimme the K.” Pietro made grabby hands before calling Wanda and Hanna to join him.

“What about you, Yasha?” Natalia turned to him before popping a yellow pill with a smiley face on it. “Wanna share?”

Bucky licked his fingers before ripping the cherry off his joint, putting it out for later. He sat up straighter, reached out to grab the lapels of Natalia’s leather jacket and pulled her in close, slotting their lips together. The kiss was all tongue and teeth, messy and uncoordinated. With a quick flick of the tongue, the pill was in Bucky’s mouth.

Natalia pulled away with a satisfied smile. “There we go.” She said before popping one for herself.

They talked while they waited for the E to kick in. It wasn’t until an hour into the conversation that Bucky started to feel the burst of dopamine and serotonin in his body and he was flying.

“I miss this.” Bucky heard Natalia said. “Why do you have to work so much?” She asked wistfully.

Bucky looked up from his sleeping position, his head was propped on Natalia’s lap and she was carding her fingers through his hair.

“Gotta put food on the table, babe.” He said with what was meant to be a smile, but what came out was a lazy grin.

“It was a good time, though.” She looked down and smiled.

Bucky didn’t reply but pulled her down for a heated kiss as a response instead. He loved this particular effect of E, everything he felt was heightened and the feeling of Natalia’s hands and lips on him felt a million times better.  

“Hey, uh, guys?” Bucky reluctantly pulled away at Pietro’s voice. “There’s a room upstairs, to the left, if you wanna– _y’know_.”

Natalia didn’t waste any precious time and hauled Bucky to his feet before dragging him up the stairs.

 

* * *

 

“ _Unngh_.”

“That’s right, there you go.” Natalia said above him.

“Fuck, Nat.” Bucky panted, working hard to catch his breath. “ _Fuuuuuuuuuck.”_

“You okay?”

Bucky looked up at her, barely able to glare before his stomach churned again and– “ _Blurrrgghhhhh.”_

Natalia snorted a laugh before patting Bucky on the shoulders. “I cannot believe you’re this hungover. We barely drank!”

“ _You_ barely drank,” Bucky let his weight drag him to the floor and groaned. “I think I finished the bottle.”

Natalia shook her head and clapped him hard on the back. “C’mon, Yasha. Let’s get you fed.” She stood with her hand extended out.

“No.”

“C’mon, I’ll drive.” She hauled Bucky by the armpit. “I’ll get Pietro to drop off my bike later.”

With Natalia behind the wheel, Bucky slept like a baby the entire car ride to get breakfast. He didn’t know where she was taking him but when he woke up, he was greeted with the smell of seawater. Bucky felt like shit warmed up and the sun streaming directly into his eyes definitely didn’t help.

“So, I’ve been hearing a lot of stuff lately.” Natalia said vaguely as she bit into her greasy breakfast sandwich.

“Huh.”

“You didn’t tell me that Rumlow was bugging you again, I could’ve said something to Papa. You know Pierce is scared shitless of him.”

“There wasn’t anything you can do, and I didn’t want to bother you, I guess.” Bucky sighed.

“You’re a fool if you ever think you’re a bother, Yasha.” Natalia said sternly before softening her expression. “And there’s always something to do, you just need to know the right people.”

Bucky took a large bite of his sandwich to busy his mouth. He didn’t feel like talking much, the hangover and the after effects of E was making him moody and awful.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Bucky mumbled.

Natalia nodded.

The two fell into a companionable silence as they finish their breakfast. Bucky thought about Nat’s offer of asking for her dad’s help but the thought of being indebted to Aresny Romanov made Bucky’s skin itch. He would take Pierce any day over Romanov, no offense to Natalia.

“Hey, found something to cheer you up.” Natalia said with a smirk. “Look, hottie with a bubble butt twelve o’clock.”

Bucky looked up, squinting a little bit because of the sun, and _wow_. About 500 yards into the sand, Bubble Butt Hottie was doing warm-up squats facing the water, shirtless and gloriously glistening with sweat.

“ _Aaaaaaaaand_ he’s wearing grey sweatpants.” Bucky groaned dramatically.

“Please turn around, please turn around, please turn around.” Natalia said next to him, gripping his bicep tightly as if they were watching an action movie.

Bubble Butt Hottie was now doing lunges and for the sake of his health, Bucky had to look away. Natalia was still staring at Bubble Butt Hottie, waiting for him to turn around, when she suddenly slapped Bucky’s arm, _really hard_.

“He’s skipping. He’s skipping! Look at them _bounce_.”

Well, now Bucky _had_ to look up and when he did, his entire world crashed and burned. Bubble Butt Hottie turned around the same exact moment Bucky looked up and he immediately recognize that smug face.

Grant fucking Joseph.

“Oh fuck me.” He said, loudly.

“Right? Oh god, his tits are bigger than mine.” Natalia was _still_ staring at Grant and Bucky felt like burying his head into the sand to _die._

He wants to die because it’s Grant. And Grant is _hot_.

And thanks to Natalia, he can never see Grant again and not think about his bubble butt or his _tits_ for that matter.

Bucky hastily grabbed his sandwich and coffee because he really needed to get outta there before Grant spotted him. He didn’t want Grant to see him like this, dressed in yesterday’s clothes, face and hair greasy from sweating drugs and alcohol all night, and he didn’t even want to think about how bad he _smelled._ Of course, though, luck was not on Bucky’s side as his coffee spilled out to the ground and rolled away from him. He made an aborted move to get the coffee when he saw that Grant was jogging towards them and that he _definitely_ saw Bucky.

But Grant didn’t say anything, or even stopped. He went past them, threw a wink at Natalia and jogged away as if Bucky wasn’t sitting there with his coffee covered boots.

“That fucking asshole.” Bucky gritted.

“What? You know who that is?” Natalia’s confused expression broke out into a shit-eating grin. “ _He_ is Blond Hottie?” Natalia started cracking up.

“How the _fuck_ did you know about that?” Bucky glared at her.

“Becca.” Natalia answered. “We talked.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her and threw the empty cup of coffee at her head, before stomping away back to the car.

 

* * *

 

After his one-night bender at the Cave and working through his Tuesday blues, Bucky went straight to work to make up for lost time. Coincidentally, because his luck is terrible, the car that he was stuck with was Grant’s and all he did all day was wish that the guy wouldn’t suddenly show up.

It was stupid, really, that Bucky was getting this worked up over seeing Grant a couple of days ago, but seeing him in a different setting was like seeing a dog walking on its hind legs. It was weird, but he couldn’t it in find himself to look away. It definitely didn’t help that under all those flannels and khakis, Grant looked like he was carved by a Greek sculptor.

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed out loud. It was getting ridiculous, how much time he spent trying to remember (or forget, depending on the day) the way the sun reflected off of his glistening chest, or the way his back muscles rolled when he stretched upwards and then down, or the way his ass bounced when he jogged away from him and Nat.  

Bucky stood up from a crouching position and twisted his upper body, making his bones crack loudly. He needed a distraction, a good one. “Jim! Turn on the stereo, put on something good.” Bucky shouted across the main floor.

His request was met with a bunch of enthusiastic yells from different parts of the garage, Tim being the loudest. Jim decided that it was the perfect mood for some Lil Wayne, so Bucky spent the rest of his day buried in engine parts while bobbing his head to the bass.

When the garage closed, Bucky stayed behind to fix a leak in the Hakosuka’s exhaust pipe. Bucky sent everybody home so he could have some alone time, despite Monty and Gabe’s insistent on keeping him company. He barely started working when his phone rang, _Grant Joseph_ flashing on the screen.

For a brief second, their last argument flashed in his mind and the last thing he wanted was to rehash that argument with Grant. He thought about leaving the call unanswered, but he had been unprofessional way too many times in this lifetime. He swore under his breath before accepting the call. “James.”

_“Hi, James. You mind opening the gate? I’m outside.”_

“What?” Bucky’s eyes widened. “Why?”

_“Kate told me I could come by and check on the car...”_ He paused. _“She didn’t tell you?”_

Bucky suppressed a groan and ended the call. He walked towards the gate as he recalled the day’s conversation to see if Kate actually told him but he couldn’t remember, it was possible that he tuned her out when she was talking to avoid his concentration breaking.

“Evening.” Greeted Grant when Bucky opened the gate. “Hope I’m not interrupting?”

“It’s fine. It’s your car anyway.” Bucky led the way back to the main floor, trying hard not to make too much eye-contact, he did _not_ want to be caught staring at his tits, or his ass, for that matter. “There’s a leak in the exhaust pipe, I’m trying to figure out where it is so I can fix it.”

That’s right, Bucky thought, continue working so he doesn’t make a fool of himself.

“Oh, okay.” Grant took a seat on an empty chair and watched Bucky crawl underneath the car.

Bucky couldn’t figure out what Grant wanted by coming by. He wasn’t in the mood to argue and it didn’t seem like Grant brought that animosity with him, but he also didn’t seem all that interested in what Bucky was doing to his car.

To say that it was awkward would be an understatement, because for almost half an hour, the only noise that was heard was the clanging and banging of metal on metal. Grant was fidgeting and tapping his leg to an absent beat, looking like he was trying to strike up a conversation but couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

Bucky decided to put him out of his misery.

“Why did you even come here at this hour? Did you even know I was here?” Bucky asked, wiping his hand on a dirty rag.

Grant looked the tiniest bit relieved when Bucky started the conversation, it almost made Bucky laugh. “I have work, I couldn’t make up an excuse to come here during the day. I called earlier and Kate said you’d be working overtime, so I asked if I could come and she said, you said yes.”

Bucky still doubted the fact that he agreed to see Grant after hours but he digressed. He, instead, walked Grant through what he was doing as he did it, filling in the silence.

“What do you do anyway?” Bucky changed the subject.

“Uh, graphic design. Print ads and stuff.” Grant answered.

Bucky stared at Grant for a second before saying, “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He chuckled. “Never thought you were in the creative industry, figured you’d be in something a lot more serious, being the way you are.”

“Excuse me?” Grant said with raised eyebrows, the small curve of his lip was the only indication that he didn’t take offense to what Bucky said. “Please, elaborate.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You carry yourself with so much tension, I’m scared you’re gonna snap in half one of these days. You wear khakis and flannels every time you come here, not even in a cool, hipster-y way. You’re so weirdly polite and proper in your texts, it makes me feel like I’m texting my mother. You insisted that we exchange emails for correspondence when I texted you the first time, I mean, who does that?”

Even in the dimmed lighting of the garage, Bucky could tell the blush that was creeping up Grant’s incredibly pale skin. Huh, Bucky mused, he wondered if Grant was a whole-body-blusher.

_No._ Stop that.

“Well,” Grant pouted. “When you put it like that, I sound fucking lame as hell.”

“Who even says lame anymore, are you five years old?”

Grant erupted into laughter. Bucky noted the way Grant tipped his head backwards when he laughed and how the soft lines on the outer corners of his eyes deepened when his eyes closed. The furrow lines on his forehead also disappeared and Bucky had never seen Grant looked more relaxed since... ever.

And Bucky… Bucky never felt more comfortable being alone with Grant.

“You’re an absolute ass, I don’t know why people like you.”

“It’s the charm, you’ll understand it one day.” Bucky smirked. “At least you got pretty good taste in cars, that’s probably the only saving grace.”

Grant laughed again but didn’t say anything, so Bucky continued working. He found the leak and was thankful that it wasn’t in a difficult position, he could weld it close without having to dismantle the entire exhaust system.

“So,” Grant broke the silence. “I didn’t know you liked to come down to the beach.”

_Shit_. Bucky swore in his head. He had hoped Grant wouldn’t bring up the beach thing, but then again, of course he would.

“Real smooth pal, that wasn’t weird at all.” Bucky said dryly.

Grant blushed in embarrassment.

“If you must know, I don’t ever go the beach. I was hungover as shit and I needed fresh air and greasy food.”

“Oh.”

“Funny you’re asking me this, especially after you pretended that you didn’t even see me that day.” Bucky said pointedly.

“Well, I was still mad at you for what happened the day before and I was kind of taken aback a little bit. I’ve never seen you outside of the shop.” Grant explained before taking a long pause. “Who was the redhead that was with you?”

Bucky scoffed at Grant and rolled his eyes. He was used to being overlooked by both men and women when he was with Natalia, not that he blamed them at all. It wasn’t the first time, nor will it be the last, that someone used him to get information about Nat, but coming from Grant? It struck a nerve in him, maybe it’s because he expected Grant to be different, but apparently not.

“A friend. Yes, she’s single. No, she’s not interested.” Bucky spewed out a rehearsed answer.

To Bucky’s surprise, Grant choked out a laugh before shaking his head. “No, no, that’s not what I was getting at, don’t worry. I’m gay.” He paused before asking, “That’s not a problem, is it?”

It took Bucky a good second before he answered. “Nope. I’m bi, so y’know. Do _you_ got a problem with that?”

Grant shook his head ‘no’, but didn’t say anything. Bucky couldn’t figure out what was it about Grant that night that made him want to tell him so much because telling someone that he was bi was generally not the first thing he would’ve done, ever. Especially if the person was someone that he had been actively hating these past few weeks.

“You mind if I put music on? It’s so quiet in here I can actually hear myself think.”

“Which is never a good idea.” Bucky quipped, earning a glare from Grant. He turned on the stereo in the corner and Lil Wayne continued playing from earlier.

“So, do you know what color you want this car to be? Jacques told me you haven’t made up your mind yet.”

“I’m torn between a silver or something of an eggnog color. I’m leaning more towards eggnog though.”

“That’s… Yeah, that could work, you can pair it with–” Bucky’s sentence was cut off by the vibrating in his back pocket. “Hold on.” Bucky fished out his phone and accepted the call.

_“Bucky! Where are you?”_ Becca’s frantic voice came from the other end.

“I’m still at the shop, why? What’s wrong?” Bucky tensed at Becca’s panicking. She was never one for theatrics and Bucky had a feeling that this was _bad_.

_“I’m outside the house, I just got home from a study group, and I think Rumlow’s here.”_ Becca explained.

“What?!” Bucky screeched. “Are you sure it’s him?”

_“Yeah, it’s a black Cadillac. Bucky, I don’t know what to do. Ma’s at home with the girls, what if they’re hurt? I’m scared, Bucky.”_ Becca took a shuddering breath and Bucky could tell that she was holding back tears.

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving right now. Stay right there, don’t spook him. Can you try and call Ma to see if they’re okay?” 

_“Okay,”_ Becca sniffled. _“Please hurry up.”_

Bucky ended the call and began pacing back and forth, trying to figure out what to do while gathering his stuff. “Shit, shit, shit.” 

“Is everything okay?” Grant stood from his stool, face concerned.

“I gotta get home. Rumlow’s there.” Bucky turned off the tools and thought about putting them back to storage, but abandoned it almost immediately because fucking Rumlow is in his house. “I’ll continue this tomorrow, I swear. I just gotta check on Ma and the girls.” Bucky then ran up to the office to grab his keys and wallet without waiting for Grant’s response. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Grant asked once Bucky was back to the main floor.

“No, I just need you to leave so I can lock up. Please? I have to go now.”

Grant nodded. “Oh, right, right, sorry.”

Bucky was about to ran to his car when he shouted, really loudly. “Fuck!” His car was boxed in by several cars that the shop was working on and there was no way he could get it out without having to move them all. 

“Hey, c’mon, I’ll drive you.” Bucky turned around and saw Grant was still standing there, keys in hand and a car that was parked perfectly by the gate. “C’mon!”

Bucky thought, _fuck it,_ and told Grant to wait outside so he could lock the gate. Within minutes, Grant was flooring the pedal all the way home, with Bucky reciting directions in the passenger seat.

His mind couldn’t help but to go straight to the worst case scenario, he thought about what he was going to find at home, and _God_ , if his family was hurt…

Bucky gripped the door handle tightly until it squeaked to try and get that thought of out his head.

“Which one?” Grant asked when he pulled up into a row of houses.

Bucky pointed to the house with a green swing on the front porch and noticed that Rumlow’s car was still parked out front. “I’ll find parking, go, be careful.” Grant said right before Bucky practically jumped out of the car.

Bucky stalked up to the door like a madman, barely watching where he was going and just bust through the front door. He didn’t see Becca anywhere, but he saw Rumlow and his Ma sitting opposite each other in the living room, drinking tea.

“Ma.” Bucky breathed.

“Hey sweetheart, I thought you were working late?”

The relief that he felt when he saw his Ma was okay and unharmed felt like taking that first breath of air after being underwater for too long. His chest felt too big and too heavy for his body and if he wasn’t leaning against a wall, he would’ve definitely fallen to the floor.

“What are you doing here?” He directed the question to Rumlow, who had the nerve to smile innocently at Bucky.

“Was waiting for you, pal. I haven’t seen you for so long, thought I’d come by and catch up.” Rumlow then smiled at Winifred. “I can’t believe you never told your Ma about me, we have so much in common.”

Bucky’s blood boiled. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Becca peeking from the stairwell, the twins, Sofia and Rosie, were tucked behind her legs. Bucky gave her the signal to go back up stairs before turning back to Rumlow.

“C’mon, let’s _catch up_ outside.” Gritted Bucky, motioning Rumlow to follow him out the front door.

“Thank you so much Winnie, for the tea and for the great company.”

At the compliment, Winnie Barnes smiled. “Oh, don’t mention it. I’m glad Bucky has such good friends like you.”

Before Bucky could vomit, he yanked Rumlow’s arm and dragged him outside the house. He was seething with anger, his heartbeat was pounding and the iron tight grip he had on Rumlow got tighter by the second.

“You have a _lovely_ home, Doc.” Rumlow teased. “Your mother is wonderful.”

Bucky pushed Rumlow so hard that he stumbled backwards to the chain link fence. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Bucky stalked to where Rumlow staggered off to and yanked him by the collar. “What the fuck do you want?!”

“I told you not to piss me off, Barnes. This is me just _barely_ scratching the surface.” Rumlow fought back and pushed Bucky away. “See how easy it is for me to get them? Imagine if you hadn’t come back on time.” Taunted Rumlow.

“This is my _home_ , how fucking dare you.” Bucky gritted. “You leave them out of this, or I swear to God, Rumlow, I will–”

“You will what? Huh, Doc? You gonna kill me?” Rumlow took a few steps forward, backing Bucky up against the wall. “And what do you think will happen when you do that? You think you’re just gonna walk away? You think Pierce isn’t going to raise hell and hunt you down? And when that happens, who do you think is going to bail you out again if I’m dead?”

“What do you want.” Bucky spat.

“Do the job, and I’ll leave your family alone.” Rumlow grinned wolfishly.

Bucky shut his eyes, trying to fight every single cell in his body that was telling him how wrong and how bad this could turn out if he agreed, but he couldn’t put his family in danger. At least if he agreed his family wouldn’t be collateral damage.

Right?

“Fine.” He conceded. “I’ll do the job.”

“That’s my boy.” Rumlow patted Bucky’s cheek and took a step back, no longer crowding Bucky against the wall. “I’ll give you a call with the details. I hope you learned your lesson to not blow me off, wouldn’t Winnie and sweet Sofia and Rosie to pay the consequences.”

Bucky lost track of time after Rumlow walked away until Grant shook him back to reality. When Bucky came to, he realized he was on the floor, sweaty and shaking, with Grant holding him by the shoulders.

“James? Are you with me?” Grant’s voice pierced through the fog in his brain.

“What– Where’s Rumlow?” Bucky looked around. “What happened?”

“You went away for a bit there, I think you had a panic attack?” Grant searched his face. “How do you feel? Are you okay?”

Bucky furrowed his brows. “Fine.” It’s true, he felt fine, but there was something that bugged him, like he missed something. “Did something happen?”

Grant looked at Bucky with a pained expression. “You don’t remember? You uh– after Rumlow left you kind of lost it? You punched the wall pretty hard and you just… collapsed.”

Bucky looked down at his hands in reflex and noticed fresh blood on his busted knuckles. Immediately, Bucky felt sharp pain flaring from the knuckle-up and he blanched. A million things went through his mind but sitting on the front porch of his two-story house, broken down and beaten, what Bucky felt was just absolute humiliation.

This was a million times worse than Grant seeing him dirty and hungover on the beach. Bucky had a full mental breakdown and Grant was the only one there.

“Leave.” Bucky breathed out.

“W-What?” Grant sputtered in surprise.

“Go home,” dismissed Bucky. “What are you even still doing here?”

“I– Look, your hand is bleeding and your little sisters are peeking through the blinds. I’m sure you don’t want them to see you like this.”

Bucky glanced up to the second floor and saw a flash of brown hair in pigtails disappeared from the window. His hand was throbbing in-time with his heartbeat, which was still faster than he would’ve liked, and while the blood had stopped seeping out of the open wound, Bucky would still need it cleaned and bandaged.

“I can’t go inside. Ma will ask questions and I don’t want her to know any of this.” Bucky sighed and let his head fall backwards against the wall. “I’ll just head to Pietro’s. Call an Uber or something.”

Grant hummed. “Where is this Pietro? Maybe I can drive you?”

Bucky snorted. “East LA. At this hour? It’ll take you over an hour to get there.”

“Fuck no, I’m not letting you go all the way to the other side of the city just to get a first aid kit.” Grant stood up and offered his hand. “C’mon, I’ll get you cleaned up and bandaged.”

“No. Just leave it, alright, I can take care of myself.” Bucky pushed away Grant’s outstretched hand.

“Yeah, yeah, I know all about that. The thing is, you don’t have to, alright? Just let me help you. I’ll even drive you back here straight away.”

Bucky thought about blowing Grant off to save his own pride but the pain in his hand wasn’t letting up and he was starting to get worried about a possible infection.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

During the drive to Grant’s, Bucky sent a text to Becca to let her know that he was okay and that he needed to blow off steam. They pulled up to a decent looking apartment building and got out of the car, Bucky followed Grant up to the third floor but he waited outside until he was invited in.

“Sorry about the mess,” Grant rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he invited Bucky in.

Bucky took in his surroundings when Grant disappeared into his bedroom to get the first aid kit. The ‘mess’ that Grant was talking about was a couple of books scattered on the coffee table, two dirty mugs on the kitchen counter, and a basket of dirty laundry by the front door. Bucky noticed a few sketchbooks were placed around the house, a drawing tablet on the dining table next to a Macbook Pro, and an old peanut can that housed a bunch of watercolor pencils. 

Bucky wouldn’t call Grant’s apartment messy, but he definitely questioned the artist’s taste in home decor. Placed smackdab in the middle of the living room was an old couch with a faded floral pattern and a matching armchair to complete the set. His dining table was paired with four different chairs that Bucky was sure Grant either found them on a yard sale or just picked them up from a dumpster.

“Alright, here we go.” Grant reappeared with a first aid box and gestured for Bucky to sit on the old grandma couch.

The blood on his hand was all dried and sticky, so Grant had to wipe them off with a wound irrigation solution. He was thankful that the wound wasn’t that deep that he needed stitches, but it was still a pretty nasty one.

“Fuck, this is going to hurt like a bitch when I work.” Bucky groaned and threw himself back against the couch.

Bucky saw Grant’s mouth open and close a few times, like he was about to say something but then decided otherwise.

“What? Just spit it out, Grant.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

“Eh… Not really, I guess Pierce is putting pressure on Rumlow to act. He was never this hands-on with recruits.”

A brief flash of confusion appeared on Grant’s face before he realized what Bucky meant. “No, no, not that. I mean the episodes.” He said the last part quietly.

Bucky physically recoiled from the question as if he was burned and immediately shut down. With both hands on his lap, Bucky started playing with the bloody hem of his t-shirt and played it off like it was nothing.

“Sometimes, not a big deal.” Bucky muttered

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Something about the way Grant asked the question made Bucky feel awkward and suddenly the air felt stifling and uncomfortable. Grant had no right to ask him such invasive questions. They weren’t even friends.

“Definitely not.” Bucky scoffed and stood up. “Would you mind driving me back home now? I need to check on the girls.”

True to his words, Grant drove Bucky straight home after he finished cleaning up his kit. The ride home was quiet and fast, since it was already in the early morning, and both men were occupied with their respective thoughts. When Grant pulled up at Bucky’s house, he turned off the ignition and twisted his body around to face Bucky.

Bucky knew Grant would say something to try to get to him to talk about what happened, or worse, talk Bucky out of agreeing with Rumlow. So he beat him to the punch.

“Thanks, for this.” Bucky gestured his injured hand. “I definitely owe you one.”

Grant sighed and gave Bucky a tired smile. “S’okay, glad I could help.”

“And I’m sorry for getting you involved in this mess. This is so unprofessional.”

Grant scoffed. “Pal, we’ve been well past unprofessional since day one.”

“Alright, well, thanks again. I’ll see you around.” Bucky hopped out of the car and threw Grant a cheeky salute before walking up the stone path to his house.

Despite the throbbing pain in his hand had stopped, Bucky still couldn’t shake off the lingering effects of his panic attack, sticking on to him like a parasite and feeding off his energy. He trudged up the stairs, thankful that his sisters and mother were already asleep, got himself cleaned up before throwing himself on the bed. Bucky eyed the anxiety medication on his nightstand and popped a pill before he had second thoughts and immediately fall into a dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

Convincing Becca that everything was okay turned out to be easier than he initially thought. Becca barged into Bucky’s room that morning after the incident in near hysterics. She didn’t hear Bucky come home last night and woke up thinking the worst. When she saw Bucky’s injury, she nearly burst into tears if not for him explaining what had happened and although it killed Bucky to lie straight to her face, Bucky managed to lead her to believe that he won the fight and that Rumlow wouldn’t be bothering any of them anymore.

It was his Ma that was the problem. Even though she didn’t connect what happened to his hand with Rumlow, she knew now that Bucky was having problems with his anxiety and that was the last thing he needed. He couldn’t bear the thought of adding more things onto her plate, on top of the 12-hour shifts at the hospital and taking care of the girls, _and_ the house.

So Bucky lied to his mother, convincing her that he missed a dose and that he had everything under control.

Things also got difficult at work when the guys started asking questions about Rumlow and whether or not the matter had been solved. So Bucky lied, again, to his friends because he thought it would be safer for the guys if something bad should happen to Bucky. _Plausible deniability_ , he thought.

The only person who knew what really happened was Grant and _wow_ , Bucky thought _, things are so fucked._

Surprisingly, though, things didn’t change much the days following the incident. Bucky went to work on the cars as usual, the guys bickered among each other like normal. The only difference is that now Grant made it a mission to check on the car as often as he could.

Bucky first thought the visits might have something to do with what happened, but _no_ , he wasn’t going to overthink things.

Grant showed up at the shop two days after the incident, wearing a backpack and carrying three bags of lunch for the whole crew, including Kate and Becca. The burritos were a hit with the guys and the fact that he had extra guac, well, let’s just say Tim was ready to get down on one knee right then and there.

“Hey, I got some ideas I wanna run by you,” Grant approached Bucky after he took a burrito for himself. “Can we sit somewhere?”

“Sure.” Bucky nodded and led them to the large table that Bucky used to lay out his blueprints. He dragged two chairs from the corner and motioned for Grant to sit down. Bucky unwrapped his burrito while Grant unpacked his backpack and fished out an iPad.

“So I made a few sketches, ideas on how I want the car to look. What do you think?” Grant handed Bucky the iPad.  

The ‘sketch’ that Grant was referring to was a detailed drawing of the Hakosuka, completed with  realistic coloring and shading, with smaller drawings on the side of the interior and the engine bay. Bucky scrolled ‘next’ and found another drawing of the Hakosuka from a different angle, and an entire page dedicated only for the wheels.

“Holy shit.” Bucky looked up at Grant, burrito completely abandoned. “This is amazing. You got the details absolutely spot on.”

Grant smiled shyly at the compliment. “I, uh, decided on silver for the body and all black for the interior.”

“Wise choice, can’t go wrong with the classic.” Bucky nodded, eyes still glued to the iPad. “I see you settled on the Watanabes for the rims. I respect that.”

Grant laughed. “Well, those two go together so well, I just can’t imagine the car without them.”

“Shit man, this is amazing. I’m going to need this printed out and framed for the office.” Bucky looked up with a grin. “Our first ever Hakosuka restoration, God damn.”

“I’ll bring em to you next time I visit.”

Bucky grabbed his burrito and leaned back on his chair with a smirk. “Grant Joseph,” he shook his head. “Who knew you had it it you.”

Grant gasped dramatically. “Excuse me, you take that back.”

“Well, I mean, after I saw the monstrosity that is your home decor, I have to admit that I was worried that you might choose floral prints for the interior.”

Grant exploded in laughter, his voice echoed in the large open space of the main floor. “I hate you. That couch came with the apartment, alright, and I’m embracing the whole starving artist thing, it’s hip.”

“The fact that you said ‘hip’ proved to me, yet again, that you are an old man. Also, what kind of starving artist can afford a 100-point restoration on a Hakosuka, you little shit.”

“The kind that puts their car above food and other basic necessities, apparently.” Grant gave Bucky a shit-eating grin.

“I feel attacked, Grant. I feel attacked.”

 

* * *

 

Ever since his Pa died, Bucky had been mastering the art of looking like he knew what he was doing. He was just starting out college when George Barnes passed away from heart failure. George’s passing didn’t just break Bucky’s heart, it stomped on it and set it on fire. It was a hard time for the Barneses but especially for Bucky because he didn’t have time to mourn over the loss of his father. With his Ma completely broken down and the girls devastated, he was too busy making sure his family was alright.

It didn’t take a week after George died for the vultures to come knocking on the door. The Howling Commando was set smack dab in one of the busiest streets in Los Angeles, it was prime real estate and everybody knew it. George Barnes bought the place for a penny, way back when, and painstakingly built it from the ground up. Once he died, everybody from with a decent real estate knowledge came barreling down with offers.

Bucky had to put his foot down and made it clear that the space was not for sale and it never would be, because he would be taking over the garage. He managed to convince his family, _and_ the lawyers his Ma had hired to go over George’s will, that he was more than capable to take over the business.

From then on, it was all _fake it till you make it_.

He had been doing so well in that department but lately, he started to wonder how much longer he would be able to pretend to have everything handled when he definitely did not.

 

 

>   ** _33.7701º N, 118.1937º W._**
> 
> **_Be there in 30._ **

 

The text from Rumlow came in just as Bucky was closing up the shop. The coordinates showed the meet-up location somewhere near Long Beach and Bucky was already dreading the drive before it even started.

That was the first time that Rumlow had contacted him since he came to Bucky’s home and it set off _a lot_ of alarms in Bucky’s internal system.

It was nearly midnight when he arrived at the meet-up location yet he was the first one there. He parked somewhere at the Port, surrounded by containers and the pungent smell of salt water mixed with low grade bunker fuel.

Bucky sat waiting for almost 15 minutes and was contemplating whether or not he should leave when a loud knock on the passenger side window startled him.

Rumlow and Rollins stood outside the car, dressed head to toe in black.

“What the fuck, Rumlow, I thought you said 30 minutes.” Bucky slammed the car door and rounded the car to the two men.

“I told _you_ 30 minutes.” Rumlow shrugged. “We’ve had someone tailing us for the past week, had to make sure no one followed you here.”

_Oh fuck._

“Someone’s watching us?” Bucky swallowed hard. From his experience, being tailed was never a good sign.

“Why do you think I made you drive all the way out here?” He rolled his eyes at Bucky. “I got the info for the next meet-up with the rest of the drivers. Don’t miss it.” Rumlow handed Bucky a piece of paper with another coordinate.

“When is it?”

“Next week. It’s a race, so bring your best car.”

_Of course it’s a race,_ Bucky thought, _perfect cover_.

“We still need one more driver so you’re gonna help me pick someone. You know that shit better than I do.”

Bucky knew better than to complain so he just nodded in reply. “How many people are in this?”

Rumlow shot Bucky a dirty look and spat out, “That’s none of your business. You just do what you do best, drive.”

Bucky took the long way home and made some false turns just in case he was being followed. He left the meeting with Rumlow feeling even worse than before. He knew that whatever Pierce was working on was bigger than the jobs he pulled before, but all this time their only enemy was law enforcement. Nobody had ever had the guts to challenge Alexander Pierce and his cartel, so whoever was following Rumlow definitely had a death wish.

Bucky knew that this whole thing was going to end up in bloodshed. He just hoped it wasn’t going to be his.

 

* * *

 

 

“You look awful, what happened?” Becca sat across Bucky in his office the next morning, right before the morning briefing.  

“Shut up.” Bucky muttered tiredly, eyes trained downward at the stack of invoice and outgoing orders.

“Where were you last night? I went to pee at like 3 AM and noticed your car wasn’t in the driveway.”

“Stayed late here, got some unexpected orders that needed settling.”

Becca nodded and paused briefly before leaning towards the desk, finally catching Bucky’s eyes. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Rumlow, does it? I mean, I noticed he doesn’t come around here anymore, that’s good right?”

Bucky sighed and plastered on a reassuring smile at his little sister. “Everything’s fine, Becks, really. Don’t worry, I got it handled.”

“Great, that’s great.” Becca smiled. “Just be safe, alright? I’ll kick your ass if you get yourself into trouble.”

“You know I’m older than you, right? You don’t get to kick my ass for fucking up, that’s my job.” Bucky threw a crumpled paper at his sister.

“Age doesn’t equal maturity.” Becca evaded Bucky’s attack and jumped out of the seat. “Just look at you and Grant, for example.” She grinned before running out of the office.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean!”

 

Like the days before, Grant came by the shop at lunch time and brought the entire crew fully loaded sandwiches. He was quickly becoming everyone’s favorite, especially Becca’s. It should upset Bucky, if he thought about it, but seeing Grant get along with his crew and Becca brought a smile to his face.

“You really shouldn’t have, Grant.” Bucky said when Grant handed him his share of the lunch.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s the least I could do. I noticed that my car took so much of your guys’ time and figured I’d help by feeding you guys.” Grant smiled.

Bucky was about to protest more when Grant held up a finger. “No. Just say thank you and eat.”

Bucky frowned but did what he said anyway. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He smirked. “See, wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Bucky recognized his insult being thrown back at him and blushed madly. “Shut up.”  

“C’mon, sit with me. I got some questions about the intake manifold.”

 

* * *

 

“So what’s up with you and Grant?” Becca asked one afternoon at home, on the rare days that Bucky decided to actually take the day off and let Monty take over the shop.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Bucky looked up from the TV with a scowl.

“Don’t play dumb, it’s not a good look for you.” Becca plopped down next to him on the couch. “He’s been over the garage a lot lately, what’s up with that?”

“I don’t know? Maybe he’s got some free time.” Bucky answered. “What’s with the interrogation?”

Becca shrugged with feigned nonchalance, but the smirk on her face gave it away. “Nothing, just wondering how this budding relationship started.”

Bucky glared in response. “If you don’t shut up I’m going to put you off the roster for the rest of the month.”

“Good luck with that.” Becca snorted and left Bucky to stew on the couch. 

The last thing he needed was to overthink this growing friendship he had with Grant. He admitted that it was nice to not be cross with the guy because now that he was taking the time to get to know Grant, he was actually a pretty decent guy. But what Becca insinuated was beyond what he dared himself to think about.

It wasn’t that Bucky was averse to relationships, but with the shop and helping Ma take care of the girls, he just didn’t have the time to start one with anyone.

He cursed Becca for opening the can of worms that he desperately had been trying to contain for the past week because _God damn it_ , he likes Grant. He’s funny, talented, had a weird sense of humor that Bucky deeply appreciated, and apparently under all those flannels and khakis he kept wearing, he was undeniably _hot._

It definitely didn’t help his internal crisis that whenever he looked at Grant, all he could think about was jumping him and imagine how Grant’s flat, washboard-like abs felt under his fingers.

_Okay_ s _top_.

“ _Fuuuuuuuuuuuuucking_ hell.” Bucky groaned into the couch pillow. “Fuck you, Becca.”

“Fuck you too!” Becca shouted from the kitchen.

After dinner later that day, when Becca and the twins had retreated back to their rooms, Bucky took over the dishes in the kitchen. It was the first time in months that Bucky was able to join the girls for dinner and help his Ma with the clean up. That was how they operated before George died, Bucky and Winifred would take turns with the cook prep and clean up, and now that Bucky had taken over the garage full time, he didn’t have time to help Winifred with dinner, or anything else for that matter.

It shook Bucky for a second, just how absent he had been with his own family and how much he’d missed. He distinctly remembered how it was when his Pa was still around, sure he worked a lot but he always made sure to always be there for him when he needed him. George was always there for first days of school, for Parent-Teacher-Conferences, for school plays or even some dumb soccer game that Bucky always managed to get roped into despite his lack of interest in sports. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fill his father’s shoes, but he didn’t realize he was lacking that bad.

Especially after what happened with Rumlow and Pierce, he realized that he had been gambling the safety of his family on whether or not Rumlow can be trusted. George Barnes would _never_ have done that.

“You okay, honey?” Bucky looked over from the sink and found his Ma leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, a soft smile on her face.

“Yeah,” he smiled back. “Just realized how much I’ve missed this.”

His Ma tittered. “Washing dishes? Who are you and what have you done to my son?”

Bucky laughed. “You know what I mean. Just realized I haven’t been around much.”

Winifred came up next to Bucky and gently rested her hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been working so hard, providing for this family and making sure we’re all okay. It’s more than I could have ever asked for. So don’t beat yourself up over missing a few dinners, okay?”

A heavy weight sat on Bucky’s chest at his Ma’s words and kind eyes and he couldn’t help but to break. The plate in his hand fell into the sink with a loud clatter and a single sob escaped his lips.

“Oh honey, c’mere.” Winifred pulled Bucky into a tight hug. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” She gently rubbed Bucky’s back.

“I’m sorry, Ma. I’m so sorry.” Bucky sobbed into her shoulder. “I’m sorry I can’t do better, I’ll do better.”

Winifred broke her hold and grabbed Bucky by the shoulders. “Stop that. Now you listen to me, okay? You are a godsend, James Buchanan Barnes. I could never have asked for a better son and you have been such a great role model for your sisters. You work so hard and you’re passionate about you do.”

“I– I don’t–”

Winifred smoothed her hand down Bucky’s arm. “I know our situation isn’t ideal and I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to step up and fill your father’s place. That you had to give up so much to keep us afloat. I know it hasn’t been easy but please know that I appreciate you, we all do.”

Bucky choked back a sob.

“I love you, my little soldier. Please don’t let this hold you back from living your life, okay? I need you to take care of yourself, make sure you’re not burning out. It’s okay not to be on top of everything all the time,” Winifred smiled. “God knows I’m not.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t stressing out about something. Whether it’s the garage or money or his family, there are always things floating around in his head that needed taking care of. He knew it wasn’t exactly healthy but what else could he have done.

_Maybe she’s right_ , Bucky thought.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Winifred gave Bucky’s shoulder a squeeze. “Now go out back and freshen up, I’ll deal with this.”

“But–”

Winifred cut off Bucky’s protest with a wave of a hand. “Go.”

Bucky knew his mother well enough to know that she wouldn’t take no for an answer so he nodded, gave his Ma a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, and went out to the shed out back that was converted into Bucky’s room.

What Winifred said to Bucky about living his life echoed loudly in his ears, even after he took a hot shower and got dressed. He couldn’t help but to think about all the things that he missed because he always put himself last. Not that he regretted all that, he knew that that was the right choice to make, but now that he had time to think about it, she was right.

He hadn’t been living his life.

Hell, forget the big stuff, the last couple of fucks that Bucky had with was Natalia, which in it’s own way was pretty sad since she was literally the only one who _would_ sleep with Bucky without him even trying. And Bucky missed trying.

He missed wanting and feeling wanted.

He wanted more than just some meaningless sex every now and then, he wanted something real. Bucky knew that he needed to stop hiding behind his responsibilities to his family for that to happen, and _maybe…_ maybe he won’t jump straight to a relationship but Bucky knew he was going to have to start opening up himself to opportunities, whether it’s in his personal life or professional. God knows how many of those he blew off because he was afraid.

 

This time, Bucky won’t be afraid.


	2. 2

Bucky’s drive to work the following morning was filled with excitement. The intense revelation he had the night before made him feel like a new man. A brave man, someone who wasn’t afraid to take chances.

He made a promise to himself before he got into the car that he was going to _try_. He was done waiting for Grant to make the first move, and he was done playing the guessing game.

The rest of the crew noticed Bucky’s jovial demeanor but said nothing, only exchanged amused glances and understanding smirks. It didn’t matter, Bucky thought, nothing could ruin his perfect mood that morning, not even the tiny bubble of anxiety that was pooling in his stomach.

Or so he thought.

Bucky might have overestimated his confidence when Grant finally showed up at the shop, _two hours later_. Bucky was a ball of anxiety by the time Grant walked in and he was actually thinking about putting a stop to the whole thing before it even started.

But then he took a good look at the man walking towards him, smiling and greeting everyone in his eyesight, wearing a god-awful plaid shirt that he seemed to have an endless supply of, and thought _, I could have this_.

He could see that smile every single day, in every situation imaginable. He imagined seeing that smile first thing in the morning when waking up and when coming home from work or after a hard, tiring day. He imagined Grant making a surprise visit, much like this one, but he could greet him with a kiss instead.

And _dear God,_ getting to kiss those plump, irresistible lips everyday, the thought alone was enough to make him weak in the knees.

“James? You alright?”

It took Bucky a good second to realize that Grant was in front of him, waving his hand in front of his face.

“Oh, yeah. I’m good.” Bucky blushed madly and cleared his throat. “What’s up?”

Grant smiled at him as he pulled out a notebook from his backpack. “I got some interior samples I want to show you and Jacques.”

Bucky nodded. “Sounds good. Jacques! Design table!” Bucky yelled out for Jacques and led Grant inside. Feeling brazen, Bucky placed a hand on the small of Grant’s back as he led him to the design table where Jacques designed his interiors.

“You know I know where the design table is, right?” Grant murmured as he leaned back slightly.

Bucky refused to blush. “Yeah, I know.”

 

Bucky treated the whole crew to tacos for lunch, beating Grant on ordering the food by mere seconds. The two ate their lunch together by the design table and Bucky was thankful that none of his crewmates joined them.

“So, how far along are you with the car?” Grant asked around a mouthful of taco de asada.

“We’re mostly done with the car. With the pace we’re at right now, we’re looking at another week or so? No more than two.”

Grant’s eyes widened at Bucky’s answer. “Wow, that fast…? I thought car restorations take a long time to complete?”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, well, that’s mostly because of two things: lack of funds or parts. You have plenty of both, so there’s no reason to hold off the restoration. Gabe is supposed to paint the car tomorrow and after that it’s just mostly assembly.”

Bucky swore that he saw Grant’s expression fell, but a pessimistic part of him thought that was just wishful thinking.

“Oh.”

“I mean, there’s still a week left, at least. Not to mention that I still need to test the engine and have it run-in before it gets checked out.” Bucky added. “Besides, you can always come over and hang out. People come over and hang out all the time, not like you need a reason.”

_Oh God, stop rambling._ Bucky cursed himself.

Grant looked down at his plate of tacos and murmured, loud enough for only Bucky to hear. “Maybe I _do_ have a reason.”

Bucky’s heart leapt out of his chest and he couldn’t help the smile that was blooming on his face. Grant smiled shyly back at him.

 

* * *

 

Aside from handling operations and engine, Bucky was the shop’s QC. So everyone from every department had to go through Bucky before execution. After the morning briefing, Bucky went to check on Gabe’s mix for the paint for Grant’s car. The shade of silver that Grant requested was a particularly tricky one to achieve but once the car was coated, it would be absolutely worth the hassle.

“Wow, that looks great!” Bucky jumped in shock when he heard Grant’s voice from behind him.

“Oh fuck you, fuck you to hell.” Bucky rubbed his chest in an attempt to get his erratic heartbeat back to normal.

Grant, that asshole, laughed. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to surprise you this time.”

“What the hell are you doing here? It’s Tuesday morning, don’t you have work?” Asked Bucky.

“Don’t have any projects currently, so I have all the time in the world to hang here. Also making sure you don’t screw up my car.” Grant smiled.

“You’re an asshole, I don’t know why I agreed to take this project.” Bucky said without heat and shook his head before pushing past Grant out of the mixing chamber.

“Sure you do, because it’s a legendary car and you’re a sucker for old Japanese legends.” Grant replied smugly.

Bucky turned around and stared straight at Grant’s impossibly blue eyes. _Huh, there’s a bit of green in his eyes,_ Bucky thought.

_No, stop it._

“And how would you know that?” Bucky took a step closer in a challenge.

“Oh, I know more than you think.” Grant said lowly, just enough for Bucky to hear. “Like how you always tap the garage door twice before leaving, or how you prefer to work barehanded than to wear work gloves, and that you have _very_ skilful hands.”

“You’ve been watching me.” Bucky said more as statement than a question.

Grant’s smug smirk bloomed to a full, shit-eating grin and he took a step back. “I’m gonna talk to Gabe, later!”

And just like that Grant walked away leaving Bucky to stand in the middle of the main floor, mouth gaped open like a fish out of water, while trying his hardest to ignore how tight his jeans felt.

_God fucking damn it_.

 

“Hey, uh, the guys are leaving and they told me to remind you about tonight?”

Bucky looked up and saw Grant standing on his doorway. “Oh, right.”

_Fuck_.

Bucky had been trying to _not_ remember that there was a race tonight. The one that Rumlow had organized so Bucky could scout the next unfortunate driver to be recruited into Pierce’s crew. None of the guys knew about what was about to go down and Bucky prefered it that way. He had been sitting on the information for a week.

His anxiety was off the charts. Bucky had to hide out in his office all day so that he didn’t have a mental breakdown in the middle of work, even if that meant ignoring Grant all day.

“So, what’s going down tonight?” Grant stepped into his office and took a seat in front of him.

“Oh, nothing, just a gathering with other crews. They do this every few weeks.”

Grant nodded. “Are you going?”

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, they’ll be expecting me.”

“Well,” Grant chuckled. “You’re _the_ _Doctor_ , of course they’ll be expecting you.”

Bucky smiled. “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

Grant left the garage in his Suburban and Bucky quickly locked up the garage. He was practically vibrating with uneasiness that he fumbled with his car keys a couple of times and nearly dropped them into a storm drain.

“Get a fucking grip, Barnes.” He said out loud once he was sat in his car.

Bucky was only pulling out of the garage when his phone chimed in with a text.

 

 

 

> **Rumlow:**
> 
> **_Recruit moved to next week._ **
> 
> **_Race still on._ **

 

He groaned loudly at the text and threw it onto the passenger seat. He had spent all day worrying about the race, driving himself mad with _what-ifs_ and worst case scenarios, and for what? Absolutely nothing.

Not that he wasn’t relieved that Rumlow postponed. As a matter of fact, he was ecstatic that the recruitment was moved. Bucky was only pissed off that he had ignored Grant for no good reason and wasted an entire day cooped up in his office while Grant was standing around on the main floor.

Bucky had an inkling that Grant wanted Bucky to ask him to come to the race. He saw Grant’s disappointed expression when Bucky dismissed the conversation and closed up the shop. The guilt itself was probably the main reason why Bucky had driven out to Grant’s place without actually realizing it, and only when he was parked that he noticed the beige building of Grant’s apartment.

_Well,_ Bucky thought, _here goes nothing._

Bucky walked up to the gate and went to buzz the door but found that the buzzer was broken, so he pulled out his phone and pressed Grant’s name, hoping that he wasn’t about to embarrass himself.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey Grant, it’s me, James.” Bucky said to the receiver.

Grant chuckled. _“I know James, I saw your name on the caller ID.”_

“Right, right,” Bucky grimaced. “So, uh, can you come downstairs? I’m outside your apartment.”

_“What? Why?”_

“Just– Just come down? Please? I’m taking you somewhere.”

_“Okay, okay, I’ll be right down.”_

In reality, it only took Grant a few minutes to meet Bucky at his car but it sure felt like an entire lifetime. Bucky’s hands were clammy and he was nervous. It was terrifying, albeit exciting. Bucky hadn’t felt this kind of nervousness in a long time. The last time he courted someone was almost 7 years ago, long before he was sucked into the world he tried so hard to get out of.

“Hey.” Grant stood in front of him, hands tucked inside the pockets of his pants. He was still wearing the same thing that he wore when they both said goodbye earlier that night, but Bucky stared at Grant like he was the greatest thing he’d ever seen.

“Hey.” Bucky said. “Sorry for showing up out of the blue.”

“It’s okay. I was uh– I’m glad you called.” Grant smiled.

“Well, I’m glad you picked up.” Bucky mirrored Grant’s expression. The two fell into silence as they stared at one another. Bucky noticed the faint blush on Grant’s cheeks that he tried to hide by looking down at his shoes.

Bucky’s insides were somersaulting at the fact that Grant was feeling the same way he was.

“So, you’re taking me somewhere?” Grant broke the silence.

“Oh! Yeah, I am. C’mon, we’re already late.” Bucky gestured at his car and opened the passenger car door for Grant.

Grant blushed wordlessly but slipped into the seat anyway. Bucky started the engine, letting the roar of the V8 echo loudly in the silent neighborhood.

“Where are we going?” Grant asked, buckling the 5-point seat belt.

Bucky opened his mouth to answer but snapped it back shut. There was no way he was taking Grant to the meet wearing _that_. Bucky reached to the back of the car and pulled out a shirt and a jacket from the duffel bag he had stored.

“Wear that.” He gave the clothes to Grant, who was staring at him with a confused expression.

“Why?”

“I don’t need the guys thinking I brought a fuckin’ narc to a meet.”

_“What?”_ Grant’s turned his head so fast.

Bucky rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Just put it on.” He said, before flooring the gas pedal, sending the car flying.

 

“I fucking love this car.” Grant said out of the blue after a stretch of driving in comfortable silence.

Bucky glanced to his right and suppressed a groan. Grant was wearing his clothes and _Jesus_ , Bucky’s white t-shirt stretched obscenely across Grant’s  pecs. Grant wasn’t _that_ much bigger than Bucky, but for some reason his shirt fit ridiculously small on Grant’s body.  

Not that he was complaining.

“Yeah?” Bucky grinned at the comment.

“It’s such a sexy car, I bet it handles well,” Grant grinned. “How the hell did you manage to get one in such good condition?”

Bucky shot Grant a wicked smirk as he pulled up to a dirt road where the meet was set up, casually said, “Street racing.”

 

The look on Grant’s face was priceless. He was smiling from ear to ear as a car flew past them, leaving a trail of dirt and sand in the air. Bucky had to pull Grant by the arm to keep him moving and not stopping in the middle of the way to watch another car drive by.

“C’mon, we can watch from there.” Bucky pointed at where the crew were milling around and continued dragging Grant through the crowd.  

Gabe, Monty, and Jim were shouting at the two cars on the strip, while Jacques and Tim were still placing their bets on the next two cars set to race. They all shouted Bucky’s name in chorus when they spotted him, waving Bucky to join them.

“Hey guys.”

“Hey, Doc… and Grant.” Gabe snickered at Bucky’s hand on Grant’s and he quickly let it go.

“Can it, Jones.” Glared Bucky.

“You up tonight?” Tim asked, fanning a few hundred dollars in the air.

“‘Course.” Bucky grinned.

“You’re gonna race?” Grant asked Bucky with wide eyes.

“Oh! You didn’t know? Doc here is kind of a legend! He’s got a winning streak a mile long.” Jim threw his hand over Bucky’s shoulder and jostled him in excitement.

Bucky pushed Jim off. “Shut up, don’t jinx me.”

“Yeah, Morita, shut up. I got a lot riding on the boss man,” Tim chided Jim before turning to Bucky. “Don’t lose, alright?”

“I hate every single one of you,” Bucky rolled his eyes before grabbing Grant’s arm. “C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

Bucky introduced Grant to the Guardians and the Ragnarok crew. Grant made a strong impression on Ragnarok’s chief, Thor, as they talked excitedly about their rigorous fitness routines. The Shield crew made a rare appearance with Skye and Bobbi behind the wheel and Clint, Bobbi’s husband cheering her on the sidelines.

Bucky had a hand on Grant a lot of the time, he argued to himself at first that it was because he didn’t want to get separated from Grant, but who was he lying to, Bucky just wanted an excuse to touch him. Bucky started with a hand on Grant’s upper arm, or guiding him along with his hand on the small of Grant’s back. When he didn’t complain or shy away, Bucky worked up the courage and entwine his hand with Grant’s.

When he did, Grant just smiled shyly at him and gripped Bucky’s hand tighter.

“So how does this work? Do you have like a signup sheet?” Grant asked as they maneuvered themselves around where the cars were parked.

Bucky laughed. “Sorta? I mean, everybody here knows everybody. So usually they just have the same lineup and if you’re new and wanted to race, you just go up to that guy,” Bucky pointed at Mack, the guy in charge of the betting and the lineups. “And put your name in.”

“How does the betting work?”

“They bet per-race. Usually the two racers get in with at least two grand and the winner gets all. Spectators can bet within their circle or with Mack, similar to how you would bet on horse races.”

Grant nodded. “What’s the highest you’ve gone?”

Bucky smirked and pointed at his parked 67 Fastback. Grant’s eyes widened.

“You bet on your Mustang?!”

“No, no,” Bucky chuckled at Grant’s outburst. “I bet my old Skyline. I _won_ the Mustang.”

Bucky saw the amazement on Grant’s face and looked away shyly. He continued showing Grant around and introducing him to more people before they settled on a spot by the strip.

“Hey, James,” Grant tugged on Bucky’s arm. “Who’s that?”

Bucky followed where Grant pointed and his stomach fell. He pointedly looked away.

“That’s Jack Rollins, he’s with Rumlow’s crew.” Bucky muttered.

“The asshole who came to the shop?”

Bucky nodded.

“Why is he staring at you like that?” Grant asked quietly, throwing subtle glances to where Rollins was standing.

“We don’t get along, as you can probably tell with Rumlow,” Bucky said, before adding, “also maybe because I won the Mustang off of him.”

Grant’s face broke into a satisfied smirk. “Way to go, James.”

 

Bucky ended the night with 12 grand in his pocket and a pleased expression on his face. He was sweaty, face flushed and high on adrenaline that he felt like he could take on the world. Next to him, Grant had a permanent smile plastered on his face and looked as if he was the one winning all those races.

Bucky wasn’t going to deny that having Grant there with him definitely helped him with his confidence. He _wanted_ to show off what he was good at and that resulted in six wins back to back before deciding he was done for the night.

“I still can’t believe you beat all those people,” Grant shook his head, smiling. “I guess Jim wasn’t exaggerating, was he?”

Bucky ducked his face in embarrassment. “Don’t believe him, I’m not _that_ good.”

“But you won six races back to back! You didn’t even give the guys enough time to bet!” Grant protested.

That made Bucky laugh. “You being there helped, I guess. It’s nice having someone cheer you on, you know, for real. Not because I’d win them some extra pocket money at the end of the night.”

Grant’s expression softened. “Well, I’m glad you brought me along.”

They both sat in the car in silence. Bucky knew he had to drive Grant home eventually, but he didn’t want the night to end. He wanted to live in this feeling as long as he could and not go back to real life _, just yet_.

“You want to get dinner? I just realized I haven’t eaten.” Bucky suggested casually.

Grant smiled. “Sure.”

Bucky grinned and drove to the nearest King Taco and ordered food enough for 5 people. They ate out in the parking lot, on the roof Bucky’s car. He couldn’t fight the smile on his face, he wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline or something else, but Bucky didn’t think he’d ever felt that happy in a very long time.

“What?” Grant asked with a mouthful of taco.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring.”

Bucky shook his head and chuckled. “Nothing, I was just thinking.”

“Yeah? About what?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve felt this… this free? I guess? I don’t know, forget about it.” Bucky waved Grant off.

Grant probably sensed that Bucky didn’t want to continue down that path and changed the subject.

“You know what surprised me the most about tonight?” Grant asked, setting his taco down. “How civil and orderly it was down there.”

Bucky laughed. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know, but definitely not what I saw.” Said Grant. “How did you get into street racing anyway?”

Bucky exhaled and settled into a more comfortable position. “ _Phew_ , I don’t even remember. I think it was my dad, you know, indirectly. He opened the garage and started making modifications, a lot of the people who were in the racing world came to him because he was _that_ good. He taught me everything I know. I spent most of my childhood there, helping and watching him work, and I ended up making friends with a lot of the guys who were in the scene.

“He took me to my first race,” Bucky said. “He knew I was interested in the whole thing and he didn’t want me to sneak around and lie to him if I ever wanted to go down there. So he took me there, introduced me to good people, showed me the ropes, and the rest was history.”

Grant stared at Bucky with awe. “Wow, he sounds like an amazing father.”

“Yeah, he was.” Bucky smiled wistfully. “I won that Mustang from Rollins a day after he passed. Bet he would’ve loved to see that.”

“I’m sorry.” Grant winced apologetically, in which Bucky replied with a smile. “He watched you race often?”

“Some nights, but mostly he’d just go straight home.”

Grant nodded, before he leaned in close to Bucky. “Do people do illegal stuff there?” His voice had sunk into a conspiratorial whisper.

Bucky exploded into laughter. “What kind of question is that! Of course they do, that’s why we do it in the middle of nowhere.”

“What kind of stuff? Are all of them are involved?” Grant asked. “I mean, I didn’t see any suspicious activity back there.”

Bucky’s smile slowly turn into an awkward grimace. “What?”

“I mean-” Grant scrambled to face Bucky. “Like in the movies? Like in _Fast and Furious_ where they steal shit and settle family feuds by racing.”

Bucky stared at Grant for a few beats of silence before chuckling in disbelief. “Oh my god, you’re such a fuckin’ dork.”

“Hey–”

“I mean, sure there are people who go to those races to deal stuff or whatever, but the majority of them are good people. Those who are in it for the race but can’t afford to go to an actual track. Lots of them are college students, some even in honor roll.”

Grant’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Oh man, you should meet Pietro. He’s the absolute best. The kid is on scholarship at Caltech, he interns at the JPL, but he spends his free time tinkering with old cars and race for pinks.”

Grant shook his head in disbelief. “Jesus.”

The two continued eating and fell into a comfortable silence until they finished their meals. Bucky was crumpling up the wrappers when Grant nudged him with his elbow.

“I know I’ve said this already but thanks for taking me, James.”

Bucky nodded and smiled. “It’s Bucky. People call me Bucky.”

“Bucky? I thought people call you Doc? Why do they call you Doc anyway? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Yeah, they do, but friends and family call me Bucky,” said Bucky. “People call me Doc because I was supposed to be one. I was in med school, I wanted to be a surgeon, but then Pa passed so I gotta quit to take care of the shop and the girls. People joked that I’m now a car doctor, since I fix them up.”

Grant nodded at Bucky’s explanation. “Okay, Bucky.” Grant said his name like he was testing it on his lips and smiled.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Bucky said begrudgingly. “It’s already 4AM and I promised Ma I’d be home for breakfast and get the twins to school.”

The drive back to Grant’s apartment was quiet. The air felt different than how it was earlier, at some point during their stop at the strip, something changed between them and it charged the atmosphere in the car. Bucky kept glancing back and forth between Grant and the road, smiling whenever he was caught staring. At one point during a red light stop, Grant inched his finger closer to where Bucky’s hand was resting on top of the shift knob. Bucky noticed and placed his hand on top of Grant’s, giving it a squeeze before he had to pull away when the light turned green.

The butterflies in his stomach was raging like mad and he could feel his heart in his throat.  

“Alright, here we are.” Bucky broke the silence.

It was obvious that neither of them were ready to end the night, but they both know that it was time.

“I had fun tonight. Most fun I’ve had in years, probably.” Grant said with a sincere smile and _God_ , Bucky couldn’t help but to stare at those lips. He noticed Grant chewing on them so much during the drive home, it was red and slightly swollen.

“Yeah, me too.” Bucky said.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around then?”

“Yeah.”

Grant made a move to grab the door handle and Bucky stopped him. “Wait.”  

Bucky leaned over the console and tugged lightly on Grant’s jacket, bringing their faces close together. He paused for a second to look for any sign of refusal and all he saw was how blown Grant’s pupils were.

“Am I reading this wrong?” Bucky whispered to Grant’s lips.

“No.” Replied Grant.

The jolt of electricity that coursed through his body when their lips finally met was unlike anything Bucky has ever felt before. Grant leaned further into him and Bucky sighed, putting his left hand on Grant’s waist. As their kiss grew deeper, Grant’s hand spread through Bucky’s long locks before it settled at the base of his skull, effectively pressing the two even closer.

He wasn’t sure how long they were kissing when he pulled away, panting. It took every ounce of strength he had in him to pull away and the look on Grant’s face was _definitely not_ helping. He looked absolutely delectable. His lips were parted, shiny and red from the kiss. Bucky could barely see the blue in his eyes from how big his pupils were.

“Fuck.” Grant breathed out.

Bucky huffed a laugh. “You got that right.”

Grant leaned back into his seat for a few seconds before he turned to face Bucky. “I should go. I really can’t handle you looking like that.” Grant closed his eyes and sighed.

Bucky laughed. “Alright.”

Grant closed the car door behind him and before Bucky could drive away, Grant turned back around. “Wait, almost forgot.” He made a move to remove his jacket but Bucky stopped him.

“Keep it, for now,” Bucky said. “I like seeing you in my clothes.” He winked and drove off, leaving Grant red and flustered.

 

* * *

 

Bucky was slightly disappointed when Grant texted him that he wouldn’t make it to the shop, citing a client meeting as an excuse. He was looking forward to seeing him after last night, he was excited with the way their relationship grew over the past few weeks, and he felt like all he wanted to do was spend even _more_ time with Grant.

The disappointment quickly disappeared, though, when he saw Rumlow’s car pulled up into the parking lot and for the first time in a while, he had never been more relieved that Grant was nowhere near the shop. The last thing he needed was another standoff between Grant and Rumlow.

“Morning, Doc!” Rumlow greeted Bucky with a cheery smile.

“Rumlow.”

“The Caddy needs a pressure check, you mind?” He pointed to the car over his shoulder.

Bucky glared at Rumlow but nodded anyway. “Sure. C’mon.”

Bucky ignored the looks that his crew gave him as he led Rumlow out of the main floor and into the parking lot. Rumlow had him and Bucky stood right in the security camera blind spot before he slipped a piece of paper into Bucky’s hand.

“Next meet. Memorize it, then burn it.” Said Rumlow, pointedly _not_ looking at Bucky.

“You gonna bail again?” Bucky rolled his eyes and crouched down, pretending to check the Cadillac’s tire pressure.

“Don’t get smart, alright. We’ve got some serious heat on us right now, you might want to start watching your back.”

Bucky stood up and dusted his hands on the back of his pants. “Everything’s set. Have a nice day.”

Rumlow scoffed at the dismissal but said nothing. By the time Rumlow’s car was out of sight, Bucky had memorized and ripped off the note. He thought about what Rumlow said and decided that despite how fun it was to have Grant with him at the last race, he wasn’t going to tell him about this one. There was no way he was going to let Grant get dragged into this.

On the day of the race, Bucky purposely ignored Grant the whole day, saying that he was busy so Grant wouldn’t pay him a visit. He left the shop early and let the guys close up before booking it to the coordinates that Rumlow gave him. He was one of the first few people there and as the night went on, he was vibrating with anxiety.

It got even worse when the race started and he saw a familiar mop of blond hair walking towards him.

“Hey.” Grant greeted him with a shy smile before ducking down to kiss Bucky on the cheek.

Bucky was panicking too much to register the kiss that he just stared at Grant with his mouth half open. Grant took Bucky’s expression as something entirely different and his smile fell.

“Is that not okay? I’m sorry I–”

“No, no, it’s fine. I was just– what are you doing here?” Bucky pulled Grant aside.

“I came by the shop when the guys were closing up, Gabe told me you were here so I tagged along.”

Bucky whined and pulled on his hair. “You shouldn’t be here, it’s not a good time.”

Grant frowned and took Bucky’s hand. “What do you mean? Bucky, is everything okay? You look pale.”

“Please,” Bucky squeezed Grant’s hand. “You need to leave, you shouldn’t be here.”

Bucky could feel the panic building up inside him and the grip he had around Grant’s hand got tighter. He kept looking around, trying to find Rumlow before he found them. Bucky knew things were going down tonight and he didn’t want Grant to bear witness to this world that he was involved in.

“But–”

“Well, well, well,” Bucky closed his eyes when he heard Rumlow’s voice behind him. “Look who we have here.”

Bucky turned around and clenched his jaw. “Rumlow.”

“Can’t leave the wife at home can we?” He gestured at Grant with his chin.

“Hey, watch it.” Warned Bucky.

“Hey Princess,” Rumlow ignored Bucky’s warning and stepped towards Grant. “Wives and girlfriends are over there. Go on.” He made shoo-ing motions at Grant but before Bucky could step up, Grant was already squaring up for a fight.

“Get your sexist piece of shit self out of my face.” He gritted through clenched teeth.

“ _Ooh_ , struck a nerve didn’t we?” Rumlow sneered.  “Just figured it would be Barnes here who wears the pants, since you walk around here looking pretty like that.”

Grant pushed forward. “I said, get the fuck outta my face.”

“Now, now, no need to get worked up.” Rumlow sneered. “I say we settle this like men, eh? Twenty grand, winner takes all.”

Bucky’s knees nearly failed him when Rumlow challenged Grant. He didn’t have to wait for an answer because Bucky knew damn well that Grant wasn’t going to back down. Rumlow would eat him alive if he refused, but he knew the real reason the race was being held and if Grant accepted the challenge, _and won_ …?

_Fuck._

“Grant–”

“You versus my man Rollins here!” Rumlow announced, pulling Rollins’ arm roughly and presenting him to an audience that Bucky didn’t even realize had formed.

Grant looked at Bucky with an unreadable expression before turning his attention back to Rumlow. “Bring it on, asshole.” He said.

Bucky felt like the ground under him had swallowed him whole. His heart was ramming against his ribcage and the cool air suddenly felt suffocating and stuffy. He saw the crowd dispersed, moving to get a better vantage point to watch the race and Rumlow guiding Rollins away, talking strategy. All Bucky managed to do was to stay upright and not fall flat on his face.

“Bucky?” He felt hands on his shoulders and Grant’s face in front of him came to focus. “Are you alright?”

A weak laughter escaped his lips. “Am I alright? Sure, Grant, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Don’t wo–”

“Hey! Buck!” Both Grant and Bucky turned and saw Wanda run towards them, waving a set of car keys in the air. “Your man is up in 5 minutes.”

“Oh _Jesus Christ_.” Bucky paled.

“Here, use this.” She threw the keys to Grant. “It’s Pietro’s R35, knock ‘em dead, Blondie.” She winked before disappearing through the crowd.

He knew he didn’t have much time so Bucky saved his freaking out for later and slipped into _race mode_. He knew Grant had no experience in drag racing whatsoever, and though it looked easy, there was a lot more to it than just putting your foot on the pedal and drive straight.

“We don’t have much time, so listen to me.” He pulled Grant’s shoulder down so his ear was right by his lips. “Rollins plays dirty. So whatever you do, don’t bite his bait.”

“Okay.”

Bucky nodded and took Grant by the hand, pulling him towards where the cars were parked. He stayed calm the entire walk there and he was going to stay calm until the race is over. It’s only 20 grand, he thought, he’s got 20 grand to spare.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Rumlow stood in front of the two cars, arms opened wide like he was welcoming an audience to a circus. “Tonight we will be spicing things up. Two drivers, 20 grand buy in, winner takes all!” Rumlow’s announcement was met with a chorus of excited howls.

“But here’s the catch,” Rumlow smirked at Bucky for a split second before he dropped the bomb. “It’ll be a city race.”

The air in Bucky’s lungs were punched out of him and he very nearly fell to the ground if it weren’t for Grant’s steady arm catching him. Bucky wanted to scream, he wanted to tell Grant to just forfeit and pay Rumlow the 20 grand but he couldn’t. The words were lodged in his throat and he struggled to breathe.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright.” Grant squeezed Bucky by the shoulders.

“No,” Bucky mumbled, shaking his head. “No, no, don’t go through with this.”

“I’ll be okay.”

Bucky couldn’t understand how Grant was able to stay calm and positive knowing what was about to happen. There was a reason why most of the guys stuck to drag race instead of city races, not only the chances of being caught by the police was significantly higher, it was also dangerous. The possibility of collateral damage was much higher and putting Rollins into the equation just made everything a thousand times worse.

“ _Fuuuuuuuuuck_ ,” Bucky closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. “Can you just… do you trust me?”

“What? Of course I do, what’s this about Buck?”

Bucky licked his lips and sighed. “I need you to throw the race, please? I can’t explain it to you right now, but I need you to lose the race.”

“Wh–”

“Just trust me on this. I need you to lose.”

Grant hesitated but nodded anyway. “I have to go, Buck.” Grant said with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “Remember what I said, okay? I know how much you’d like to stick it to Rumlow, but the stakes are so much higher now. If you’re unsure, lift your foot of the pedal. It’s better to lose the race than lose a life.”

Grant nodded and climbed into Pietro’s R35. Bucky stood back alongside his Commandos, clammy and nervous, with a heartbeat faster than a freight train. Rumlow walked to both cars with a map, explaining the route that they had to take before returning back to the strip.

Grant looked mad _hot_ behind the wheel. His hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly, eyes sharp and focused. Bucky had never seen Grant like this and it did things to him. Or it would, if Bucky weren’t too busy trying to not pass out from his anxiety.

Grant glanced at Bucky and gave him a smirk. Bucky bit his tongue and walked up to the car, tapping the window.

“Yeah?” Grant said after the window was rolled down. Bucky didn’t say anything and just reached into the car, pulling Grant’s shirt towards him and crashing their lips together. The kiss was messy and sloppy, it was all teeth and tongue and not enough air.

Bucky groaned into the kiss and let go, pushing Grant back into his seat. He looked wrecked, his face was flushed and lips swollen, wet.

“Be careful,” said Bucky.

“Always.” Grant smiled.  

“Gentlemen! Start your engines!” Rumlow yelled, followed by the roars of the two cars coming alive. Rumlow began counting down from 5 and when the light went off both cars sped off, leaving a trail of smoke and the smell of burnt rubber.

The tension in the air seemed to disperse when Grant and Rollins disappeared, but not for Bucky. Monty and Jim tried coaxing him to take a seat or grab a drink but he wouldn’t move. Eventually the rest of the Commandos went off on their own, waiting for both drivers to come back.

“Hey, Doc.” Rumlow slunk next to him, arms crossed on his chest. “I noticed that your boy got a pretty swift reaction time, he ever raced before?”

“No.”

“Huh, could’ve fooled me. That boy dropped into gear like a seasoned pro,” Rumlow sneered. “You sure you know your boy well enough?”

Bucky’s snapped. “Shut the fuck up, Rumlow.”

“Oh come on, lighten up a little.” He jabbed Bucky on the shoulder. “You realize if he wins I’m taking him in, right?”

Bucky blanched.

“You should be ecstatic Doc, not everybody gets the chance to work alongside their boyfriends.” Rumlow started to walk away but stopped. “You should consider yourself lucky.”

The panic began to really set in and Bucky felt dizzy. His hands were shaking and his entire body felt hot. He didn’t know how long he was standing there like a statue, trying to get air into his lungs but when he finally came to, the race was over and Rumlow was staring at him with an unreadable look on his face.

 

* * *

 

“Is this how you feel every time you go out there? _Jesus_.”

Bucky glared at the road and white-knuckled the steering wheel. He was driving way over the speed limit and even then, he still felt like he wasn’t moving fast enough.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt that much adrenaline, _ever_.” Grant sighed with a huge smile on his face, completely oblivious to Bucky’s distress.

They were two minutes away from Grant’s apartment when he realized where they were and turned to Bucky with a confused expression. “Oh, you’re driving me back? I thought we could grab a bite to eat or something?”

Bucky slowed down and dropped the car into 2nd gear before yanking the handbrake and turning the car towards the front of Grant’s apartment building. The car spun around with a loud screech before stopping completely into a parked position, only an inch away from the curb.

“Get out of the car.” Bucky mumbled before he killed the engine and step out of his Mustang.

Grant scrambled off his seat to follow Bucky who was already walking up to the building’s front door, confused and lost. Bucky gestured at the keypad with his hand and before Grant could say anything, Bucky had already walked up the stairs and headed straight to Grant’s apartment.

Once they were inside, Grant closed the door behind him and leaned against the door while Bucky started pacing in his living room.

“You’re angry.” Grant said.

Bucky stopped his pacing and stalked towards Grant. “What the absolute fuck was that, Grant?”

“What?”

“I told you to throw the race, and you did the exact opposite of that!” Bucky shouted in anger.

“You’re angry because I won?” Grant asked incredulously. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Bucky shoved Grant against the door, hard. “If you think I’m worried about you winning, then you don’t know me at all.” He growled.

“Yeah? Then fucking tell me what’s going on. I know you’re keeping shit from me, I’m not a fucking idiot,” Grant scoffed. “You’re just as bad as Rumlow.”  

Bucky snapped and grabbed Grant by the shirt, pinning him against the door. “Fuck you, asshole.” He gritted out.

Grant tilted his chin in defiance. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“Shut the fuck up, you know nothing.” He pressed Grant harder against the door that the wooden ridges dug into Grant’s back, making him hiss in pain.

“Yeah? Make me.” Grant spat back.

Bucky blamed the entire thing on the adrenaline rush and the fact that Grant looked stupid hot when he’s being an ass, because the next thing he knew, he was slamming his lips against Grant’s.

Grant whimpered at the impact but quickly caught onto what was happening. He grabbed Bucky by the hip with one hand and reached up to hold the back of Bucky’s head with the other; angling their faces as their lips parted and their tongues met.

The kiss was wet, sloppy and hurried, loud in the otherwise silent apartment. Bucky slid his leg in between Grant’s, making the blond shudder at the sudden–but welcomed–friction.

“You drive me fucking nuts.” Bucky growled in Grant’s ear and pressed his knee up against the growing bulge in Grant’s jeans.

“Bucky–”

He ran his hands down the front of Grant’s shirt, feeling the defined ridges and valleys of his stomach, before going back up and settling on Grant’s ridiculous pecs. It was slightly rounded, perfectly contoured to fit the shape of his palms. He could feel Grant’s nipples hardening with every passing second and Bucky couldn’t help but to pinch lightly.

“ _Fuuuuucck_ , do that again.” Grant’s eyes were shut and he was breathing heavily, leaning fully against the door as he struggled to stay up.

Bucky kissed him again aggressively before pulling away and tugging on the hem of Grant’s shirt, making his point clear that he wanted it _off_. Grant straightened a bit so he could take off both his flannel and the white undershirt he was wearing. Grant stared at Bucky’s eyes as he flung the shirt in the general direction of the couch and watched as Bucky’s gaze dropped to his bare torso.

“ _Shit,_ ” Bucky cursed and began palming Grant’s chest roughly, eliciting a loud, breathy moan.

His mouth was back on Grant’s, greedy and eager. Grant parted his lips and let Bucky lick into his mouth as his hands traveled down to his abs, stopping right at the waistband of his jeans. He paused briefly to see if Grant protested. He answered the silent question with a slight tilt of his hips, grinding them against Bucky’s.

Bucky grinned into the kiss and slipped his hands into the front of Grant’s crotch, feeling the growing bulge under his palm. Bucky had an idea how big Grant was when they saw each other at the beach, but feeling it under his touch, it wasn’t even close to what Bucky had imagined. Grant bucked into Bucky’s hand, but Bucky pushed him back against the door, causing the coat hanger on the door to topple down.

“Fuck, baby,” Bucky groaned and pressed Grant back against the door before working on his belt buckle. He pushed his jeans down to his ankles, leaving him only in his boxer shorts. The outline of his cock was displayed proudly in front of him, and his boxers were slightly damp from the precome that had been leaking steadily since Bucky pushed him against the door the first time.

Bucky stood back up, latching his mouth on the side of Grant’s neck, giving him tiny suckles. “This good enough to shut you up?” Bucky growled into Grant’s ear, tugging on it possessively.

“ _Nnnh_ –” Grant hips canted forward, chasing the friction.

When Bucky finally slipped his hand into Grant’s boxers, they both groaned loudly in pleasure. Grant’s cock was hard and slick, curving slightly towards his stomach. Bucky gave Grant’s cock  couple of lazy strokes. He thumbed the head to collect the bead of precome and brought it to his lips, licking them clean.

“I don’t know which will shut you up best, me sucking you off or have you on your knees so I can fuck your face.” Bucky said, lips only millimeters away from Grant’s.

Grant whimpered and dove right back into a kiss while simultaneously grabbing him by the shoulders and flipping their position, slamming Bucky’s back against the door. He’s got one hand down Bucky’s pants, trying to undo the button of Bucky’s jeans, and the other resting on Bucky’s nape.

Grant shoved Bucky’s pants, along with his boxers, down to the floor and groaned at the sight of Bucky’s cock hot and ready in front of him. He grabbed the base of it, held it straight and ran his tongue up the side. He then closed his lips around the tip before he sucking straight down.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back at the sudden heat enveloping his dick and the velvety slick sensation of Grant’s mouth. With his hand resting idly on the back of Grant’s head, he could feel Grant’s head bobbing up and down, his nose occasionally brushing against the thatch of hair on the base of Bucky’s dick.   

“ _Ah_.” Bucky’s hips jerked involuntarily when his cock hit the back of Grant’s throat. “Jesus, your mouth.”

Grant peered up at Bucky from under his lashes as he teased his tongue on Bucky’s cockhead. Grant looked absolutely debauched, his lips were swollen red and wet, spit was trailing down his chin.

Bucky placed his palm on Grant’s cheek and swiped his thumb against his cheekbone. “I’m gonna fuck your face.”

With that, Bucky tangled his fingers in Grant’s hair, tugging hard as he guide his cock back into Grant’s open mouth. “ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky cursed. The way Grant’s lips looked wrapped around his dick was plain _sinful_ and Bucky knew he wasn’t going to very long.

Bucky held nothing back, he had a firm hand on the back of Grant’s head as he pistoned in and out of Grant’s mouth. The filthy squelching sound of Grant’s spit dribble out of his mouth and Bucky’s steady ‘ah-ah-ahs’ filled the room. It only took Bucky a dozen strokes into Grant’s mouth and he was done.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna–”

Bucky groaned as he poured himself down Grant’s throat, and Grant moaned around him, milking Bucky’s come out of him until he was oversensitive. Grant gagged at the amount of come Bucky was spurting out but Bucky just held Grant’s head still until some of it dribbled out the side of Grant’s mouth.

Bucky felt Grant’s body tensed and shuddered before his legs completely gave out and fell onto the the floor. Bucky’s cock slipped out of his mouth and Bucky hissed at the feeling of cold air hitting his wrung out dick.

“Did you…?”

Grant sighed dreamily, “Yeah, I did.”

Bucky’s legs eventually gave out too and he slid down to the floor, back pressed against Grant’s front door. The two lay there naked in a heaping mess of limbs and discarded clothes, sweaty and sticky from sweat and come.

 

 

“We still have to talk about this, you know.” Grant murmured into Bucky’s hair.

The two were laid out in bed, cleaned up and clothed in their boxers. Bucky rested his head on Grant’s chest, drawing random patterns on the man’s torso and trying to match his breathing with Grant’s. Their legs were tangled inside the thin knitted blanket, with Grant occasionally rubbing his toe against Bucky’s calf.

“I know,” Bucky sighed and sat up. “Gimme a sec.” Bucky got up from the bed and walked out of the room, coming back after a minute with a glass of water.

“You were right,” Bucky took a sip before giving the glass to Grant. “I was keeping things from you, but only to protect you and I didn’t want to involve you. Plausible deniability, in case something bad happens. But now you’re involved anyway, so I guess there’s no point in keeping it from you, is there?” Bucky laughed bitterly.

He took a seat on the edge of the bed, playing with the frayed end of the knitted blanket as he tried to formulate what he was going to say. Grant sat up and scooted closer, but not too close to give Bucky space.

“A couple of years ago, I was arrested for tampering with a murder evidence.” Bucky confessed.

Grant’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I was working late one day when a guy came in with a car, saying he needed a full interior overhaul. I told the guy we were closed but he said he already drove all the way from the other side of the city and begged for me to take the car,” Bucky told Grant with a pointed look, causing Grant to look down in embarrassment.

“I took the car, with the promise that the guy would come back in the morning. The stupid thing was I didn’t even ask for any ID or a phone number or _anything_ to identify this guy. He said his name was John. _Just_ John.

“I didn’t think much about it and left the car where the guy parked it and continued on working. The next day, not long after we opened the shop, police swarmed the place and they served me a warrant to search the shop for any evidence from a murder that happened in Santa Ana.”

Grant’s expression fell. “ _Oh no_.”

“They found the trunk of the car bloody and the murder weapon wrapped in a t-shirt.” Bucky shuddered at the memory and looked up at Grant. “That was why I was so apprehensive about accepting your car.”

Guilt was all over Grant’s face as he took Bucky’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “I’m so sorry I put you in that position. If I had known I would have _never_ done that to you.”

Bucky smiled a little. “It’s okay.”

“What happened after that?” Grant asked carefully.

“They arrested me. I don’t know how they were supposed to proceed with the whole thing but I felt like they were jumping the gun over the evidence findings. I panicked and tried to fight my way out of the cuffs, and they slammed my head against the concrete and tased me down before shoving into the cruiser. I was pissing myself and drooling everywhere. Spent a week in the county jail before Rumlow came in and told me that the charges were dropped.”

“Rumlow? How’d he get involved in this?”

“You heard of the Hydra Cartel?” Bucky asked, and Grant nodded. “Rumlow works for Hydra’s boss, Alexander Pierce. They wanted me to drive for them on a job, transporting the drugs undetected, returning the favor after getting me freed from jail. One job turned to dozens and I couldn’t take it anymore. They paid me 50 grand per job, but I couldn’t live with the anxiety and the fact that I’m aiding the drug business. My dad probably rolled in his grave.

“I tried getting out, believe me I did. I actually thought I was out for a while, I told them I don’t owe them anymore favors and if they threatened to get the cops to reopen the case, I have the funds to hire a lawyer now. But then they threatened the shop and, remember when you drove me home because Rumlow was there?”

Grant nodded.

“That was him making a point.” Bucky shut his eyes at thought of his family in danger. “I couldn’t back out once they threatened my Ma and the girls.”

“You didn’t go to the cops?” Grant asked.

“Pierce has people everywhere. Not long after I joined their crew, I found out that the whole thing was staged. Pierce had someone plant the evidence on me so he could blackmail me. The cops were in it too. So no, I didn’t go to the cops. I don’t trust them.”

“Jesus, Bucky, why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” Grant asked with a pained look.

“I didn’t want to implicate any of you. Nobody knows except Tim and Monty, they were there when I was arrested. Ma and the girls just knew that I was framed and the the charges were dropped because they found the real guy.

“And now, you managed to get roped into this mess that I’ve been killing myself trying to get out of.” Bucky gazed up at Grant, but he just looked tired and dejected. “I’m telling you this because Rumlow may not have contacted you yet, but he will. They’re planning a big one soon and they needed more drivers. That race tonight was him compiling the good ones so he could make an offer.

“He’s going to play dirty, threaten your family or ruin your career so you wouldn’t have a choice. So, I advise you to think very carefully about what you’re going to do when he does.”

Bucky exhaled loudly, as if an immense weight had just been lifted off him. Telling Grant the truth felt like a double-edged sword, one one hand it relieved Bucky of some of the pressure of lying, but at the same time it felt like digging deeper into the hole that he desperately wanted to get out of. Telling Grant made all this all the more real and Bucky had mixed feelings about it.

“I don’t know what he’s going to do. I got no family left, my job is freelance, I only have this one apartment and the car. I really have nothing to lose,” Grant said. “But I know you do, so I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

Bucky looked up, mouth slightly opened to start protesting but Grant shook his head. “No, just– I can’t just turn my back on you now that I know the truth, okay? That’s not who I am. So you better believe that I’m with you, to the end of the line.”

The earnest look in Grant’s eyes did it for Bucky. They were in it for real now, there was no turning back.

Bucky crawled back into bed, burying himself into the empty space between beside Grant. “Okay.” He looked up and kissed Grant softly on the lips. “Okay.”

“I guess you better finish up the car quick if I’m in this. Can’t exactly drive fast with a Suburban.” Grant tried to joke.

Bucky immediately sat up facing Grant with an offended look on his face. “If you use that car to transport drugs, Grant Joseph, I will personally murder you myself,” he laid back down. “Don’t worry about the car, I’ll take care of it.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky drove Grant to the Cave the next day to possibly score a ride for Grant. He gave Grant a brief explanation on what the Cave was so to not freak him out, but the look on Grant’s face when they parked inside was priceless.

“Close your mouth, babe, you’ll catch flies.” Bucky suppressed a grin.

Grant closed his mouth and glared, but couldn’t help but to blush at the pet name Bucky gave him.

“I’m kind of terrified.” Grant said as they walked to the main floor to meet Pietro.

“Don’t worry about it, most of the guys here are too stoned to even do anything.”

Pietro was hunkered down next to his R35 with its hood taken off and a screwdriver tucked behind his ear. He barely noticed the two men walking over and nearly fell on his ass when he finally realized he wasn’t alone.

“ _Jesus Christ,_ anybody ever told you that you walk like a cop?”

Bucky gave Pietro a confused look, while Grant fidgeted next to him looking like he was trying to make himself smaller. “What?”

“You walk all silent and all squared up like cops.”

“Are you high?”

Pietro waved him off with a _psh_. “Well, hello, friend of Doc’s?” Pietro stood up and dusted his hands, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Bucky glared at him but introduced Grant anyway. “Pietro, Grant. Grant, Pietro.”

“ _Ah_ , so _this_ is Grant,” Pietro grinned from ear to ear. “Welcome! Welcome to my humble abode, what can I help you with today.”

“We need a car,” Bucky cut straight to the chase. “Fast, light, not too flashy. You got anything like that?”

Pietro hummed in confirmation. “What do we need it for?”

Bucky glared at Grant’s direction. “This idiot right here got recruited to drive for Rumlow. He doesn’t have a ride.”

“Oh Grant, why would you do that,” Pietro said to Grant in a patronizing tone. “Uhh, I got a few you can choose. Come with me.”

Pietro gave them choices and Grant eventually settled on a 2011 Dodge Challenger SRT. Pietro walked them through the modifications on the car, but Bucky had other things in mind.

“You think you can do your little computer magic on this one?”

Pietro narrowed his eyes. “I can, but did you not hear the modifications I just told you?”

“Yeah, but I need to make this car as fast as it possibly can be. Y’know, in case we need to make a run for it.” Bucky shrugged like it was no big deal, while Grant gulped audibly next to him.

“Ah _bozhe moy_ ,” Pietro shook his head. “Alright, alright, I’ll get on it right now. I assume you want yours to be done as well?”

Bucky grinned. “Yes please.”

 

Just like the times before, as the day turned into night, more people showed up at the Cave and just his luck, Bucky’s friends came in loaded with treats. Robbie Reyes cranked up the sound system and began playing something with a heavy bassline, Pietro broke out the weed while Hanna and Wanda brought in cases of beer.

“You don’t smoke?” Grant asked quietly.

“I do, but I wasn’t sure if you’re okay with it, so,” Bucky shrugged.

Grant looked over to Pietro and extended his hand, asking for the joint. He then took one, long, meaningful drag before he leaned over to Bucky, close enough that their lips brushed, and exhale the smoke into Bucky’s parted mouth. Bucky inhaled the smoke and closed his eyes, feeling the way his limbs get lighter and lighter with each passing second.  

When he opened his eyes, Grant was looking at him like he was ready to devour him. Bucky didn’t miss the excited twitch of his cock inside his jeans at the way Grant looked when he took another lungful of smoke.

“Fuck.” Bucky breathed out.

Grant laughed with a smug look on his face, knowing damn well what he did to Bucky. He never thought the plaid-wearing asshole he met a few weeks ago would have a dark side.

“You do this a lot?” Grant looked down to his lap, where Bucky’s head was resting. The two were finishing the last of their joint and they were pleasantly light-limbed.

“What?”

“ _This,_ ” Grant gestured to the room, where people were milling around in various state of sobriety.

“Drugs, you mean?”

Grant shrugged.

“Not really, we only ever do the happy, light stuff. We don’t do the hardcore ones,” Bucky chuckled. “Hell, I’d be one hell of a hypocrite if I condemn Pierce for his operations but I’m out here snorting lines.”

“Isn’t it kind of the same, though?” Grant asked.

“Last time I checked Marijuana is legal here in California. Besides, you ever heard someone ODing from smoking too much weed, Grant?” Bucky asked back, he could hear the bite in the question.

Grant sighed. “No.”

“I thought so.” Bucky sat up from Grant’s lap. “I’m gonna get more beer, you want one?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m good.”

Bucky walked off to where the cooler was stored and grabbed another can of PBR. He didn’t want to think about what Grant said because in a way, he had a point. But at the same time, Bucky refused to accept the judgement in his tone of voice that was clear as day.  

“Bucky, hey,” Bucky turned around at the sound of Grant’s voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say what I said. I know how it came across and I didn’t mean it like that.”

Bucky looked away.

“I’m just trying to get a sense of you,” Grant stepped closer and put his hands on Bucky’s elbows, pulling him in. “Every time I feel like I know you, there’s another layer underneath that I have to peel off. I’m not saying it’s bad, I’m just saying I’m curious, is all.”

“I didn’t like what you insinuated.” Bucky confessed.

“I know, I’m sorry. I guess my filter isn’t working as well as I liked it to be.” Grant brushed his thumb against Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky found himself leaning against the touch and his eyes fluttered shut. He hummed a reply and his lips parted automatically when he felt Grant’s lips brushed against his. Grant’s mouth tasted like beer and his lips were dry from smoking but it didn’t matter, he licked into Grant’s mouth with fervor, drawing out a moan from the other man. Bucky circled his arm on Grant’s neck, but just as he settled his arm, Grant yelped and jumped backwards in shock.

“Shit, that was cold.”

Bucky forgot that he was holding a beer can and erupted into laughter. “I can’t believe you, you just cockblocked yourself!”

“I’m sorry,” Grant chuckled sheepishly.

“C’mere, let’s go sit down,” Bucky took Grant’s hand and led him back to couches.

Bucky didn’t miss the way Grant had to readjust his pants when he walked back to where the guys were sitting and a thought sprung to mind. Instead of leading Grant back to the couch, where apparently Hanna and Wanda had taken over and were grinding and licking into each other’s mouths, Bucky led Grant towards the stairs.

“Doc!” Pietro yelled out.

Bucky turned around just in time to catch whatever Pietro threw at him, which turned out to be a small glass bottle. Bucky was red from the tip of his ears down to his neck, he glared at Pietro who in turn only gave him a shit eating grin.

“Don’t forget this!” Pietro threw him a two foiled packets. “Don’t be silly, wrap your willy!”

Bucky shot Pietro a murder-stare before yanking Grant by the arm and hauling him up the stairs to the guest bedroom. Once they were inside and the door safely locked, Bucky pushed Grant onto the bed and climbed over his leg to straddle him.

Grant grinned lazily. “C’mere, lemme kiss you.”

The kiss was just as heated and as intense as the one downstairs. Bucky let his hands roam, cupping Grant’s pecs through his shirt and working his way down to the line of his jeans. He felt the hard line of Grant’s cock even through his pants, and smiled wickedly.

“I wanna suck you off.” Bucky whispered into Grant’s mouth.

“ _Oh, fuck yes_ ,” He made a quick move to undo his jeans but Bucky slapped his hand away.

“Shirt. Off.” Bucky instructed.

Once his shirt was off, Bucky began mouthing at his abs and moving south, leaving a wet trail down to the waistband of Grant’s pants. Bucky snickered at the way Grant’s breath hitched when he mouthed at the hard bulge of Grant’s erection through his pants.

“Buck, stop teasing.” Grant whined.

Bucky went to work on Grant’s pants and pulled them off, slightly struggling due to the fact that he was high as a kite. He grabbed Grant’s cock and licked the bead of precome gathering on his slit before sucking all the way down to the base. Grant couldn’t help the involuntary jerk of his hip that sent his cock deeper into Bucky’s throat. Bucky moaned around Grant’s erection and continued to bob his head up and down, swallowing as deep as he could.

“B-Buck, I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” Grant groaned and tried to pry Bucky’s head off his dick.

Bucky let Grant’s cock slip out of his mouth with a lewd pop. “You wanna fuck me, or do you want me to fuck you?”

“What did Pietro gave you earlier?” Grant sat up on his elbow on the bed.

“Oh, just condom and lube.”

Grant shook his head. “No, no, the bottle one.”

Bucky gave a whole body-blush and grabbed the bottle from the pocket of his pants. “Poppers, you tried it before?”

Grant shook his head. “What does it do?”

Bucky crawled up next to Grant and lay down. “It gets you high, loosens your hole.” He grinned.

At Bucky’s words, Grant’s eyes darkened and he thrusted the bottle into Bucky’s hand. “Can we try?”

Grant’s question spurred Bucky into movement and he quickly undressed himself. Bucky haven't bottomed in a while but after having Grant’s cock stuffed in his mouth, he _needed_ it inside him.

“You’re huge, so you still gotta open me up a little,” Bucky was spread eagle on the bed, naked and glistening with sweat.

Grant’s face turned pink at Bucky’s comment. He went to grab the lube that Bucky threw on the bed but then he changed his mind.

“Turn around, I wanna eat you out.” Grant instructed.

Bucky moved with excitement, getting onto his hands and knees, resting his weight on his forearms. He felt Grant sliding his hands over the cheeks and spreading them open to get a better look on his puckered hole. Bucky moaned softly, voice slightly muffled from tucking his face on the crook of his elbow, at the feeling of Grant’s thumb grazing his hole.

Grant bent down, bringing his face in close and gave Bucky’s hole a few experimental lick before bringing his tongue flat from his perineum to his opening. Bucky tensed for a second before completely relaxing, sighing a blissful sound at the feeling of Grant’s tongue working him open.  

Bucky moaned loudly when Grant’s tongue pushed inside his hole, gripping wildly at the sheets under him pulling it undone. “ _F-fuck_ , baby keep going.”

Grant buried his face between Bucky’s cheeks and made obscene slurping noises, Bucky had to grab the base of his dick so he won’t blow his load right then and there. Grant had other plans, though, as he reached forward and took over Bucky’s hand, and grabbing Bucky’s slick cock and started jerking him off. Bucky barely lasted a minute before he came with a groan, spurting ribbons onto the sheet under him.

Bucky’s arm gave out and fell face down onto the mattress, and Grant pulled away.

“I’m close, I need to get inside you _now_ or I’m not gonna stand a chance.” Grant grabbed the condom packet, putting it on with shaky hands and sloppily drizzling Bucky’s entrance with lube.

Bucky turned around and sat up, popped open the bottle and brought it up to his nose, closing one nostril and inhaled with the other. Within seconds, Bucky’s limbs felt like it was floating on air and the feeling of blood rushing to his head gave him that light-headed sensation that Bucky loved. He felt his muscles relaxing, Grant scooted closer to his open legs and guided his cock into Bucky’s wet hole. He slowly slid in in after inch, Bucky moaned from the delicious stretch of his cock going inside him.

When Grant was fully sheathed in, he started thrusting shallowly, but Bucky was not a patient man. Not when there was a dick inside him that was sitting perfectly in his sweet spot. He brought his interlocking leg up to Grant’s ass and pressing him closer and deeper into Bucky.

Grant let out a pornographic moan. “Yeah?”

“Harder,” Bucky panted. “Faster.”

Grant obliged. He picked up the speed and gave Bucky all he’s got. The loud slapping of skin on skin and the rhythmic _‘ah ah ahs’_ echoed in the room. Grant continued to slam his hips against Bucky with a singular focus until he felt the his peak closing in.

“I’m close.” Grant grunted above Bucky.

“C’mon, finish in me.” Bucky whined and urged Grant with his feet, pressing them closer.

Grant lifted Bucky’s leg to his shoulder and picked up the pace. The sounds that were coming out of Bucky’s mouth were obscene and _loud_ , and Grant just kept on railing Bucky to the mattress. Grant lasted for only a few thrusts before his body went rigid and the slammed into Bucky with a loud _‘ugh’_ , spilling his come inside Bucky, filling up the condom.

 

Grant let his body fell on top of Bucky and rolled over to his side, letting his soft cock slid out of Bucky’s hole. He had half a brain left to remember to pull of the condom and tie off before he flung int in the general direction of the trash can, but not much for anything else.

“We should clean up.“ Bucky slurred.

“We should.”

“I don’t wanna move, though.” Bucky sighed deep and snuggled against Grant’s side.

“Me either.” Grant replied, but Bucky’s only response was a deep, steady breaths as he was already fast asleep. Grant followed not long after.  

 

* * *

 

True to Bucky’s words, Rumlow approached Grant two days after they spent the night at the Cave. Grant called Bucky on his lunch break and broke down the entire thing. Bucky was glad that Rumlow didn’t use any excessive force on Grant, but he was a little bit sad that Rumlow couldn’t even find anything worth threatening in Grant’s life. It was like his life was only revolved on his work and Bucky.

Not that Bucky minded being such a huge part in Grant’s life, it actually felt really nice. He just wished Grant had something else in his life that was worth threatening. As fucked up as that sounds.

“Hey Buck,” Becca greeted him one day at the shop. It was her day to man the front desk while Kate was out sick. “You busy?”

Bucky shrugged, but not bothering to look up from the engine bay. “Not really. Why?”

“Nothing,” Becca hummed. “So, is Grant your boyfriend?”

Bucky looked up in surprise at the question so fast that he dropped the wrench down the engine bay and clanged its way down to the floor. Becca was snickering like a mad woman at her brother’s reaction.

“Uh, we haven’t really– uh, I mean…”

Becca rolled his eyes at Bucky’s stuttered response. “Hey Grant!” Becca waved over Bucky’s shoulder. “Are you Bucky’s boyfriend?”

Bucky wanted the ground to swallow him whole. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around and see the look on Grant’s face, so he settled with giving Becca death glares.

“Uh,” Grant said as he got closer. “I… guess?”

Bucky turned around and found Grant, red from the tip of his ears down to his collar. He shot Bucky a questioning look and Bucky couldn’t help the grin that was forming on his lips.

Grant then nodded with resolution. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

The days following Grant’s confirmation of their relationship, Bucky was untouchable. He realized it was pathetic, that it was _that_ obvious he was craving validation, but Bucky couldn’t care less. Becca seemed to be approving his relationship with Grant, she even said so one day when they were helping their Ma serve dinner.

“You look happy.” Becca said out of the blue.

Bucky, who was setting plates on the dining table, looked up in surprise. “Do I?”

“Yeah, I mean, I thought I knew what you looked like when you’re happy,” Becca shrugged. “But this is next level happy, isn’t it?”

Bucky felt that a brief pang of guilt at the way Becca phrased the question. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy before he met Grant, because that’s untrue. He just felt _lighter_ now that he had someone to talk about what was really going on in his life. That for once, he doesn’t have to pretend that things aren’t fucked up and that he wasn’t neck deep in illegal shit. It surprised Bucky that that person would turn out to be Grant.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Becca continued, smiling at him when Bucky stayed quiet. “I’m glad you’ve found the person you can be this comfortable with. I’m happy that you’re happy.”

The crew were also supportive of the new development in their relationship, in their own weird way. Whenever Grant would come by to visit or to check up on his car, the guys would start smiling or grinning like a bunch of idiots, and then pretended to not know what was going on when Bucky glared at them. Bucky felt utterly blessed to have such a positive and tight-knit crew that he would never take any day with them for granted, ever again.

Things were finally looking up for Bucky, until the mass text came in. Bucky was working overtime, putting the finishing touches on the Hakosuka engine when his phone beeped with a text from Rumlow that said, **_Dinner’s ready, 60 mins_** , and a coordinate number underneath.

He all but sprinted off, hastily putting his tools back in its place before he sped off to the coordinates he punched into his GPS. On the way there, Bucky dialed Grant’s number and put his phone on speaker.

“You got the text?” Bucky asked once the line was connected.

_“Yeah, on my way right now.”_

“Okay, I’ll meet you there. You ready?”

Grant laughed darkly. _“As I’ll ever be.”_

Bucky had his foot down the pedal and drove south until he was met with an empty dirt field, dark and secluded. He saw Grant’s Challenger parked amongst the 4 other cars around and Bucky’s stomach dropped.

He was used to working alone. He was the only driver required to make the pick up and the drop, meaning that the job wasn’t as big as the other cartels, like Kingpin’s or Madam Gao’s. This many drivers meant Pierce was really stepping up his game and he knew just how much worse this could get.

Bucky nodded at Grant, who shot him a tight-lipped smile back in return.

“Alright, ladies! Listen up!” Rumlow shouted, rounding up the drivers.

Bucky studied the other players and recognized Frank Castle, another frequent visitor of Pietro’s cave, as he emerged from his Subaru WRX.

“We’re on a tight schedule and there is no room for screw ups. We go in and out, as simple as that, and fast as that,” Rumlow explained as he was handed a stack of rectangle devices by Rollins. “This is a GPS, the coordinate for the pick up is already programmed in, as well as the drop off point. This also track your movements, so if any of you go off the grid or run off with the package, trust me, I’ll find you and it won’t be pretty.”

Bucky and Grant shared worried glances.

“There will be cameras around the pick up point but the interval will give us some leeway. The camera moves and the movement will provide us with a blindspot. The problem is that we only have 30 seconds for us to get into the pick up entrance. It’s gonna be tight, but if you meet the allocated time that’s on your respective GPS, not late and not early, you’ll have no problem.”

“How’re we supposed to load the package with 30 seconds?” Frank asked incredulously.

“You don’t,” Rumlow answered. “The pick up point is a small gap just before the Border fence, just open the boot and let my guys load the packages, then you carry on. We’re giving each of you a set of comms, but keep the chatter low unless necessary. We don’t know who might be listening in.”

Bucky tried to listen to Rumlow’s instruction but something felt off. He’d done transport missions like this over dozens of times and regardless of what he was transporting, Rumlow was never in charge. It was always Pierce who briefed his men, so why would Rumlow be taking point on Pierce’s biggest operation?

“Where’s Pierce?” Bucky couldn’t help but to blurt out the question.

“That’s none of your concern,” Rumlow snapped at Bucky. “Since you’ve done this before, you’ll be leading the pack, which also means if any of them screw up, it’s gonna be on you. I’m putting the trigger on your car, so you’re the only one who can open the gate.”

Bucky’s stomach was in knots as watched Rollins and a few of Rumlow’s men making rounds on the car to install the GPS. He was going to have to find another way to ditch them in case things go south, he could always ditch the car but he knew that abandoning the Mustang would feel like pulling teeth.

“Okay, we’re all set.” Rumlow clapped his hands once. “Good luck ladies, don’t get caught.”

After Rumlow and his men drove off, Bucky and the rest of the drivers waited for the GPS to give them their first instruction. Bucky sat on the driver’s seat with tense posture and clammy hands, trying to do breathing exercises before they have to start the job. The drive itself was no problem, Bucky had done this before and he’d done them successfully. It’s the feeling of impending doom and things that didn’t add up that was making Bucky nervous and anxious.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” Grant asked as he slid into the passenger seat of Bucky’s car and closed the door.

“Yeah, just nervous.” Bucky sighed and closed his eyes. “Keep your phone with you, alright? In case I need to call you, or anything.”

“Okay.”

The beep of the GPS signaled an incoming message. Bucky pressed the icon and a highlighted route to the pick up point popped up, including a time allocation for each car.

“Alright, this is it.” Grant said but made no move to get out of the car.

“Yeah,” Bucky turned to Grant and took his hand. “Be careful okay, I–I don’t know what I’ll do if you get hurt.”

Grant nodded and squeezed Bucky’s hand tighter. “You too, okay?”

Bucky pulled Grant into a kiss in lieu of a response. The kiss was desperate, heavy with unspoken words and inexpressible emotions. He clung on to Grant’s shirt like a lifeline and letting him go felt like the hardest thing Bucky had to do.

“Grant, I–” Bucky looked straight into Grant’s eyes, but the word was lodged in his throat.

Grant’s expression softened. “I know. Me too.”

The two shared a look that said everything they needed to know, but the moment was abruptly broken by a soft knock on the window. Frank was standing by the driver’s side with an apologetic expression.

“We gotta go.”

“Okay.” Grant nodded and gave Bucky a short peck on the lips before he got out of the car and into his Challenger.

Bucky led the drivers out of the dirt field and towards the pick up point. They drove for roughly two hours in a convoy formation, leaving very little gap from one car to another that other cars won’t be able to slip in. The GPS led them to San Diego, towards the desert of the US-Mexico border. The pick up point was _underground_ and the entrance was supposedly about a few miles away from the wall.

Bucky wasn’t sure how they weren’t triggering the heat sensors with this much car driving at once but when he addressed the question to Rumlow, he got the usual brush off and was told to stop talking and keep driving. They were approaching the 30 second window and Bucky could see the tiny bit of opening on the ground that led to the tunnel.

“Alright fellas, here we go.” Bucky spoke through the comms. The entrance to the pick up point was closed off by a metal door as well as sand and tumbleweeds. Bucky didn’t slow down, but when he got close enough, the trigger on his car set off the sensor the metal door simply slid open, allowing the cars to drive in.

“Everybody in?” Bucky asked the rest of the drivers. All five drivers confirmed, so Bucky kept on driving.

_“That was sloppy, you barely made it. Do better on the way back.”_ Rumlow spat through the comms. _“Pick up is right up ahead, go in with your trunks open so it’s a simple dump and go.”_

Bucky thanked the heavens that he installed an automatic boot release earlier this year or this would’ve gone to shit. They drove for another mile before the tunnel opened up into an open space enough to fit over 20 cars. It was empty save for a couple of wooden crates stacked on top of each other and a number of men standing by.

Bucky rolled the car to a stop with the hood facing the other way and the trunk open, ready for loading. Bucky never looked at what was being transported, he felt like the less he knew the better, but this one felt _heavy_. He felt the back half of the car dip and Bucky prayed to whatever God there is that they weren’t actually transporting bodies.

_“That’s about a hundred million worth of goods in each of your trunks, you guys better deliver.”_ Rumlow’s voice crackle in the earpiece.

_Holy shit_ , they were transporting 600 million worth of shit combined.

It took them under 30 seconds to get all the goods loaded and when they finally shut the trunk, the GPS automatically re-programmed itself to lead them to the drop off point. Bucky led everyone to the opposite side of where they came in, but veered left when the tunnel forked, leading them back to the US instead of further down to Mexico.

Bucky knew the tricky part was coming up, they needed to be right on time and _together_. If one got stuck then Bucky wouldn’t able to get them out, because his car is the only one who would trigger the sensor. With a glance at the rearview mirror, Bucky could tell that the cars were spaced too far with each other. If they kept it up like this, they wouldn’t be able to make it out in time.

“Guys, we’re too far from each other. Keep it tight, the exit is up ahead.”

_“It’s too heavy, Doc.”_ Frank replied from the other line.

_“My car’s tilting up a little, what the fuck are we carrying? Did anyone see?”_ Asked one of the drivers.

_“HYDRA’s not into transporting humans, are they?”_ Asked another.

_“Guys, shut up. We don’t know who’s listening here, keep it quiet.”_ Bucky recognized Grant’s irritable tone.

“C’mon guys, keep it tight. Who’s at the tail?” Bucky asked.

_“Me.”_ Bucky groaned inwardly when he heard Grant’s voice. _“The guy was moving slower than the others, I got a late start.”_

“Well, keep up. We’re about a few hundred yards away from the exit. Remember, we only got 30 seconds to disappear.”

Bucky saw the familiar wooden beams that were marked with red paint, signaling whoever was driving that the ramp to the exit was coming up. Bucky gripped one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear stick.

“Alright guys, get ready.”

The metal door slid open and Bucky pressed his foot down.

_“I’m still behind.”_ Grant’s voice crackle in Bucky’s earpiece but it hits him just the same. _“I don’t think I’ll make it.”_

“Fuck!” Bucky hits the steering wheel. Bucky thought of slowing down, closing the gaps between the car as they wait for Grant, but slowing down meant losing momentum and they were already too close to the exit to stop.

_“I can see the red Honda.”_ Grant said, identifying the car in front of him.

Bucky wished he had the ability to turn back time but, alas, all he could do was breathe and pray to whatever Gods were listening that what he was about to do wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

“Just NOS it, Grant.” Bucky told Grant.

They were only 150 yards away from the exit.

_“But I only got one tank.”_

“Just do it!” Bucky yelled as his car rode up the ramp and jumped out of the tunnel and out to the desert. Bucky kept flooring the pedals until they reached the cleared area and back into civilization without once looking at the rearview mirror.

He couldn’t bring himself to see if Grant made it, but he couldn’t live without knowing.

“All drivers, check in.”

_“This is Castle, checking in.”_

Three other drivers checked in and Bucky gripped his steering wheel tighter, waiting for Grant’s voice to come in.

_“Grant, checking in. I made it out.”_

Bucky slammed his palm against the steering wheel at the sound of Grant’s voice and let out a hysterical laugh. “Yes! Yes! That’s what I’m talking about!”

Every cell in Bucky’s body was vibrating with both excitement and relief. His response was met with enthusiastic whoops and laughter from the rest of the drivers, perfectly masking the real reason why Bucky was so relieved that Grant made it out.

“Alright fellas, it’s another two-hour drive, keep it tight and watch your back.” Bucky warned the drivers through the comms.

They drove North in a convoy formation. The GPS led them to port of Long Beach, and Bucky knew immediately that they were going to do the drop at the container terminal. Somewhere during this entire operation, Bucky’s brain had switched gears and turned his paranoia into adrenaline. He found himself grinning widely as he pressed his foot down on the pedal, sending the car flying even faster down the sleepy streets of California.

Bucky always loved this part of an operation. The drive in the quiet open road, just him and the car burning through the asphalt. It’s the few kilograms of illegal drugs he was carrying that put a dent in his otherwise perfect scenario.

_“Guys, there’s a silver sedan a few cars back that I’ve been noticing for the past hour. Is it something we should be worrying about?”_ Frank’s voice crackled through the comms, breaking both the silence and Bucky’s thoughts.

Bucky glanced at the rearview mirror and saw a silver Toyota Corolla spaced back quite decently. “Grant, you’re the closest one to the car, can you see it?”

It took a few beats of silence before Grant answered. _“Yeah, they’ve been with us since we got onto the freeway.”_

“Shit.” Bucky cursed. “Okay, let’s break formation and try to lose ‘em. Make sure you don’t go off too far on your own, keep in touch.”

The drivers all confirmed and they broke formation. Bucky zig-zagged through the freeway and even took false exits to throw off whoever was tailing them. They did this until just a few minutes away from the Port, that’s when Bucky checked back in with everyone.

“All drivers, check in.”

_“Right behind you, Doc._

_“Me too.”_

_“Me too.”_

_“So am I.”_

_“On your left.”_ Came Grant’s response.

Bucky glanced to the car next to him and gave Grant a cheeky grin. “You little shit.” He mouthed to Grant, earning a laugh from the other man.

“Did we lose our tail?”

_“Yeah, haven’t seen it since about an hour ago.”_

“Good, we’re almost there.”

They drove into the terminal where the cargos were stationed with their lights cut off. Rumlow verbally instructed Bucky and the rest of the drivers to park their cars inside two red containers marked with a tiny strip of reflective tape.

Bucky drove into the first container and turned off the car, followed by Grant and Frank, while the other three parked in the second container. Bucky stepped out of the car, his entire body buzzing with adrenaline and anxiety. The feeling of impending doom that he tried to brush off earlier came back in full swing and he genuinely felt like throwing up.

“You good?” Grant came up to Bucky and held him by the elbows.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, just nerves.” He faked a smile and led Grant out of the container.

Rumlow stood there with Rollins and the rest of his men, arms crossed in front of his chest and looked at Bucky with a pleased expression. They were gathered around between the rows of cargo, easily hidden from prying eyes.

“Excellent work, Doc, as usual.” Rumlow greeted the group with a smug smile.

“Are we done?” Bucky was not having this little dance again, he finished his part and he was itching to go back to the safety of his home.

“Ah ah, you know the drill.” Rumlow made a twirling motion with his finger at Bucky. Bucky rolled his eyes at the instruction but turned around and put his hands behind his head, so Rumlow could pat him down and check for smuggled drugs and/or firearms.

“Do the others.” Rumlow told his men, Bucky watched as Rollins gave Grant a rather harsh pat down and circling close to his crotch area.

“Hey!” Bucky growled. “Watch it.”

Rollins put both hands up in mock surrender but continued patting Grant down to his foot.

“Is this necessary?” Bucky sighed.

“You know it is. Boss man wants to see you, all of you.”

As if it was rehearsed, the moment Rumlow said the words, Alexander Pierce stepped out of the shadows. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, polished leather shoes and a pair of gold cufflinks. He looked out of place among the rest of the men around him, dressed in jeans and jackets, with scuffed boots or ratty converses.

What a power play.

“Evening gentlemen.” Pierce greeted the group with a smile. One that Bucky knew all too well to be misleading, giving whoever was at the end of that smile a false sense of security. “I am very pleased at the result of tonight’s operations, I’m sure you all are aware of just how important this particular one is for me. Rumlow told you how much you were transporting, did he?”

The men nodded.

“Then you must understand when I say that I am _very_ disappointed at a little information that I was given earlier tonight.” Pierce’s gaze flickered at Bucky for a split second.

Bucky’s fingers had gone cold at Pierce’s words. His mind went ‘aha!’ at the realization that _this_ is what his gut had been telling him this whole time, something bad was about go down and Bucky was going to get it.

“I received a tip from a source of mine that we have a mole in our midst,” Pierce began pacing, slow and deliberate. “That apparently, one of our drivers was working with the FBI to gather information about me, in exchange for protection.”

Bucky saw from the corner of his eye that Frank and the three other drivers were looking at him. His cold hands were clammy and his heart was going a million beats per minute. Bucky kept his gaze forward, straight at Pierce, who was still pacing.

“Now, imagine my disappointment when I found out that the person who had betrayed me was one I had considered like a son to me. Like family.” Pierce was pointedly not looking at Bucky.

Bucky felt someone closing in on him from behind but it was the sharp cock of the gun in Bucky’s ear that got him to wince forward. Rumlow had his Glock trained on the back of his head, the tip barely brushing his nape, but close enough that it sent shivers down Bucky’s spine.

He was petrified. Bucky had no idea what was going on but he was certain that Pierce really believed that Bucky was the mole. His eyes darted to Grant–who stood tense with clenched fists–and shot him a pleading look for help and for him to believe that it _wasn’t_ Bucky. That he would never put Grant’s life in danger.

“Bring him forward.” Pierce instructed Rumlow, expression flat and voice leveled, as if the whole thing didn’t affect him at all.

Rumlow pressed the barrel of the gun harshly against Bucky’s head to move him forward, nearly tripping him on his own feet.

“Get on your knees.” Pierce spat at Bucky.

“Hey–” Bucky saw Grant took a step forward but before he could tell Grant to stop, Rollins was on him, gun at the ready and pointed straight at Grant’s temple.

“Take another step and I’ll blow your head off.” Rollins sneered.

“If you want your little boy toy to stay alive, I suggest you tell him to stand down and shut up.” Pierce said to Bucky, patting him forcefully on the cheek.

Grant was red with anger, his entire demeanor was ready for the offensive but Pierce was right. Aggression was going to get him killed. So Bucky pleaded at him once again with his eyes, telling him to stand down.

“I’m going to give you a chance to come clean and just tell me exactly what you told your buddies at the FBI,” Pierce started circling Bucky like a predator at a prey. “Then _maybe,_ I won’t have my boy Rumlow here teach you a lesson about loyalty. Say, how are little Rosie and Sofia doing these days? And is sweet Winifred still working at the hospital?”

“No!” Bucky cried out.

“You know I don’t pride myself in killing the innocent, but,” Pierce shrugged. “Sometime you have to teach people that you’re not one to be fucked around with.”

“I swear to you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bucky begged, hands and knees on the ground. “I don’t know any feds, I haven’t talked to anyone!”

“That’s not what I hear.” Pierce ‘tsk’-ed at Bucky. “One more chance to come clean, or  I’ll come for your girls and slit their throats, one by one, and I’m going to make you watch.”

Bucky lost it.

He scrambled to his feet and started lunging at Pierce, screaming his lungs out until his throat felt raw. Pierce was taken aback by the sudden movement and the fact that Bucky manage to get his hands on the lapels of his suit, that he staggered backwards.

“You sick son of a bitch.” Bucky pulled Pierce towards him and growled to his face. He had his fist ready to hit but before he could pull back, Bucky was pulled off Pierce by the collar.

Rumlow yanked Bucky’s shirt until he was thrown to the ground and delivered a swift punch to the bridge of his nose, breaking it with a loud crack. Bucky’s eyes were watering and his face throbbed in time with his erratic heartbeat. The punch messed up his equilibrium and he struggled to get back on his feet. So Bucky just lay there on the ground, blood pouring out of his nose.

“You little bitch.” Pierce kicked Bucky on the stomach.

Bucky could hear Grant’s voice calling his name faintly in the background, but all he could focus on was the pain in his face and sides. Pierce rolled Bucky onto his stomach with the tip of his shoes and pressed his foot down on Bucky’s back.

Grant elbowed Rollins in the face and dove forward to Bucky, but before be could reach him, Rollins was on top of him, yanking both arms behind his back and pinning him down.

“Settle down fag, don’t make me gag you.” Rollins gritted his teeth on top of Grant, who tried to wiggle himself free.

“Let this be an example, gentlemen.” Pierce spoke to the group with Bucky under his foot, wheezing and bleeding onto the ground. “If you think you can pull a fast one on me, then you are sorely mistaken.”

After Grant’s outburst, the rest of Rumlow’s men trained their guns to the rest of the drivers, as they stood quietly, watching Pierce circle around Grant and Bucky with a sinister look on his face.

“Now, last chance to tell me everything,” Pierce crouched down and took Rumlow’s gun from his hand, pressing the barrel to Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky had tears run down his face, mixing together with the blood and snot coming out of his broken nose. He shook his head violently and cried out. “I don’t know! I swear I don’t know anything. It wasn’t me, I swear it wasn’t me!”

Pierce stood up and grounded his foot in Bucky’s back. “Wrong answer.”

Bucky groaned out in pain. “It wasn’t me! I don’t know shit, you gotta believe me!” He begged.

“Brock,” Pierce ignored Bucky’s crying and pleading under him and handed back Rumlow’s gun. “Make sure you have your men ready to pick up Mister Barnes’ family, we’re pressed for time.”

“No!” Bucky yelled out, earning another kick in the face by Rumlow.

“Yes sir.” Rumlow signaled two of his free men to join him as he walked towards his car.

“No, no, no,” Bucky whimpered on the ground, crying for his ma and his baby sisters. “Please don’t, not my girls, please.” Bucky whispered, he shut his eyes and let his tears fall free.

When Bucky opened his eyes, he met Grant’s gaze, both were cheek down on the ground. Grant mouthed _I’m sorry, I’m so sorry_ to Bucky before he pressed a button on his watch behind his back.

Suddenly, a flurry of uniformed men and women, hidden behind and inside some of the containers burst out from the shadows, shouting for everybody to get on their knees and drop their weapons.

The element of surprise won these uniforms the upper hand, they were all too stunned to even fire their weapons. Bucky saw Rumlow, Rollins, and the rest of his men pushed to the ground, kneed in the back and cuffed without so much as a fuss. The rest of the drivers surrendered by dropping to their knees and putting their hands behind their heads, not even bothered to put up a fight.

Grant, on the other hand, was helped up by a blonde in a uniform before being handed pistol and a vest that read FBI in bold yellow letters.

“Great work Rogers, now cuff him.” She threw a pair of magnetic cuffs, the same ones that were used on him way back when, and gestured at Alexander Pierce.

Bucky watched as Grant–no, _Rogers_ , cuffed a very surprised Alexander Pierce and told him that he’d be going away for drug trafficking. He watched the man he loved walked away from him, as he continued to bleed on the ground.

 

* * *

 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” The paramedic, Wilson, asked after he cleaned up the blood on Bucky’s face and told him that he’s got a possible broken nose and a fractured rib.

“No.”  Bucky shut his eyes to ease the throbbing headache.

The flickering lights of the ambulance gave Wilson’s dark skin a reddish hue, it hurt Bucky’s eyes after a while.

“Okay, well, these agents right here want to talk to you about what happened, you up for that?” He gestured over his shoulder at the two FBI agents standing with a notepad out.

Bucky nodded in reply.

“Evening, Mister Barnes. I’m Special Agent Carter, and this is Special Agent Hill. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Bucky muttered.  “Am I under arrest?”

Carter, the blonde one, shook her head. “No, no, we’re here to tell you that we have Alexander Pierce and his men in custody, along with enough evidence to put him away for a very long time. We came to tell you that despite your involvement in this operation, we are giving you immunity and protection.”

Bucky looked to the two agents. “What about my family?”

“They will also be granted protection, at least until the trial is over.” Answered Hill.

He nodded. “I was forced. I didn’t want to do this.”

“We know, we have the full report of what happened from Special Agent Rogers.”

Hearing his name, Bucky saw red. The exhaustion and the pain disappeared, replaced with a burning sensation of betrayal and anger. His hands were formed into fists and his breathing got quick and harsh. Bucky vaguely registered the two agents talking but all of that went out the window the moment he saw Gra– _Rogers_ walking towards the ambulance.

“Bucky.” He said once he got close enough for Bucky to read his lips.

Bucky all but jumped out of the ambulance, flinging the space blanket off of him, and stalked his way to meet _Rogers_ halfway. He controlled his breathing until he was at an arm's-length away from Rogers and then he pulled back his fist and delivered an honest-to-God right hook to the side of Rogers’ face, hitting him square on the cheekbone. Rogers collapsed onto the ground from the force, with his hand holding the side of his face.

The agents nearby immediately closed in, but Rogers waved them away.

Bucky stood over him, legs on either side of Rogers’ body and bent down. He grabbed Rogers’ vest with shaky hands and gritted out, “You…”

“Buck, let me exp–”

“You lied to me.” Bucky, eyes red-rimmed, grounded out with shaky breath. He let Rogers’ vest go and watched as his head fell to the ground, there was fresh blood seeping out of the cut from Bucky’s punch. “I trusted you.” He whispered tiredly before he walked away, back to the ambulance where Carter and Hill looked at him with wide eyes.

“Can I leave?” Bucky asked, eyes down and hands were still balled in fists as he tried his damndest to control his breathing before he spiraled down into an episode.

“We’re taking your car in for processing, I’m sorry.” Carter answered.

“Then can someone fucking get me out of here?” Bucky lost his temper and shouted.

“Hey, we still need to take you to the hospital.” Paramedic Wilson said from behind the two agents.

“Fine, whatever, just get me the fuck out of here.” Bucky hauled himself to the back of the ambulance and right before Wilson closed the door, Hill reminded Bucky not to go out of town for the next few weeks.

“Whatever.” Was Bucky’s reply.

The ride in the ambulance was silent. Bucky expected a dramatic wailing of the siren and running through redlights to get to the hospital, but in reality, it was quiet and awkward.

“Why didn’t you turn on the siren?” Bucky asked Wilson, who sat quietly next to him, studying Bucky’s chart.

“Are you dying?” He asked.

“No?”

“Then we don’t turn on the siren.” He quipped back.

Bucky glared at Wilson but sat back to try and make himself comfortable. He had half a brain left to tell Riley, the medic behind the wheel, not to go to the hospital that his Ma works at, but after that Bucky fell back into silence. His brain was going a million miles an hour, trying to process what the fuck just happened.

Alexander Pierce was arrested.

That part Bucky understood.

What he had trouble understanding was Grant, who apparently was undercover this whole time. Bucky let out a hysterical laugh. He couldn’t wrap his brain around the fact that Grant! The man he opened his entire life up to turned out to be a fraud! Isn’t that hilarious?

“Hey, man, you okay?” Wilson leaned closer to Bucky, who started tearing up despite still laughing maniacally.

“No? I don’t know?” Bucky snorted. “Maybe I’ve gone insane because apparently, I have lost the ability to tell when people are lying to me.”

Wilson looked sympathetic. “Sorry man.”

Bucky directed his gaze at Wilson. “You were in this too?”

“No, but I have an idea of what happened.”

Bucky huffed and shut his eyes. The stabbing pain in his chest hadn’t stopped but Bucky knew it wasn’t because Pierce stomped on his back. Bucky rubbed his chest with his left palm and took a shuddered breath. He was mad, he was angry but the most fucked up thing is that his feelings for Grant–or Rogers–hadn’t changed. Despite being lied to, being used and then _spat_ to the ground, Bucky still worried about him, he found himself making excuses in his head for what Grant–Rogers–did to him.

Pathetic.

“Does your chest hurt?” Wilson asked, breaking Bucky’s thoughts.

“No, but my sides hurt.” Bucky winced when he took another breath. “Also my hand.” He brought his right hand up.

“Well, that’s what you get for jumping out of the ambulance and punching people in the face.” Wilson rolled his eyes but he went to the cabinets to grab and IV bag. “Didn’t I tell you you got a possible rib fracture?” He said, scolding, but his eyes were soft and sympathetic.

“Adrenaline, I guess.”

“I’m gonna give you something for the pain,” Wilson inserted the IV into Bucky’s arm and watch Bucky relax as the drugs enter his system.

“Thanks.” Bucky murmured before closing his eyes.

 

* * *

 

The worst thing about having a broken rib is not the pain, or the inability to do anything, or even the troubled breathing. The worst thing about having a broken rib is the fact that you can’t _hide_ that you have a broken rib, and that meant coming clean to your entire family about _why_ you’ve got a broken rib, and a busted face.

When Winifred and Becca visited him at Long Beach Memorial a day after, hysterical and in tears, Bucky couldn’t help but to start crying along with them. Not because of the pain but because he knew what kind of stress he had put his family under. It wasn’t fair that his family had to suffer for something that his idiot self did.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky choked out.

Winifred sat on the bed, gripping Bucky’s left hand as tight as she could. Becca was sitting on one of the chairs, eyes trained to a spot above Bucky’s head, but her face was blank. Bucky had told them everything, including incident with the police years ago, the threats, and the fact that Grant is Rogers and Rogers is actually _Special Agent_ Rogers.

“You fucking asshole.” Becca couldn’t fight the quiver in her voice or the tears pooling in her eyes. She then stood up and stormed out of the room, leaving Bucky in tears.

Winifred could only sigh and stroked her son’s hair, calming him down. “You know that came from a place of love, right?” She whispered in his ear.

Bucky nodded.

“I’m not going to start lecturing you about what’s right or wrong, I’d like to think I’ve raised you well enough for you to determine that yourself,” She said firmly. “What I’m going to tell you is that if you think, by keeping things like this from us, you were sparing us? Then you’re wrong.”

“But–”

“We are a family. I know you’d like to think that it’s your job to take care of us, that you can do this alone, but you’re wrong. We take care of _each other_ and we do it _together_. I know you have your reasons for doing what you did, but next time, talk to me.” She put a finger under Bucky’s chin so he would look her in the eyes.

“Yes Ma’am.” Bucky felt small. He felt like a scared little boy seeking his mother’s protection, but for the first time in _years_ , Bucky felt safe.

 

* * *

  

Bucky was finally cleared for work after two months of being decommissioned. He returned to the shop and was welcomed with a ridiculous sight. The guys had hung different colored streamers all over the garage, put up a banner that said _Congratulations_ , and a cake with his face on it.

He wasn’t too proud to admit that he teared up a little. These people had stood behind Bucky through thick and thin and Bucky couldn’t even begin to express how lucky he was that he had them to watch his back.

Becca, after the initial shock wore off, wouldn’t leave Bucky’s side. She insisted on coming to work to keep an eye on Bucky and was in general overbearing and bossy, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He was also eternally grateful that the Hakosuka was nowhere to be seen. Monty said he delivered the car while Bucky was home on bedrest, so Bucky wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

Bucky hadn’t seen or heard from Rogers ever since he took the stand as witness and he preferred it that way. The pain that bloomed in his chest whenever he thought about the man he once called his boyfriend had lessened with time. It shouldn’t take long before the name no longer bear meaning to Bucky.

He still thought of Rogers from time to time, mostly right before he went to bed or whenever he had free time. So Bucky threw himself into work, taking more customers than he usually would. Becca told him that it wasn’t healthy, but Bucky thought it was better than sitting around and think about the what-ifs.

Really, Bucky was doing excellent.

That is, until one morning, just a few days before Pierce and his crew’s sentencing. Bucky was whistling the tune to an Ariana Grande song that Kate was playing, elbow deep in grease, trying to unmount an Edelbrock engine out of a ‘62 Impala, when he heard a commotion right at the front of the main floor.

Bucky looked up to see Becca, with a torque wrench in hand, yelling up at none other than _Special Agent_ Rogers. She was backed up by Tim and Monty, who, from their expression, had a very little nice things to say to the man.

There was a few seconds of hesitation. He wasn’t sure whether or not he was ready to talk to him, but when Becca started to swing the wrench at Rogers, Bucky jumped out of the car to separate her from _Special Agent_ Rogers.

“Hey, hey, whoa!” Bucky caught the wrench as she swung back and immediately disarmed her. “Jesus, Becks, calm down.”

“You’re just gonna let this piece of shit come in here? He’s not welcome here!” Becca pointed at Rogers with disgust.

“No,” He said to Becca, before turning his attention to Tim and Monty. “Guys, please take her up and don’t let her near any heavy or sharp objects.”

Becca scoffed at Bucky but followed both Tim and Monty, who also looked less than pleased at the request, up to the office.

“What do you want?” Bucky turned to Rogers.

He was glad that the garage was busy or else he would’ve worried that Rogers could hear how fast and loud his heart was beating. It took an effort to level his voice so it doesn’t quiver or crack from the anger and emotion that Bucky had pent up.

“I tried reaching you,” Rogers said.

“I know, I blocked your number.”

Rogers winced at the sharp reply, but nodded understandingly. “I came here to talk, I–I just want to explain.”

Standing there while Rogers begged gave Bucky a sense of deja vu. The difference was now, the disdain was beyond showing up at the wrong time.

Bucky sighed and tilted with his head, gesturing for them to take this outside. Bucky led Rogers to the side of the garage, he pulled out a crumpled cigarette pack from his back pocket, lit up a stick, and leaned against the brick wall.

“So, talk.” Bucky said, looking at anything _but_ Rogers.

Rogers rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, I’m not sure where to start.”

Bucky scoffed. “Why don’t you start with your name, _Grant_.” He spat out the name with venom.

“It’s Steve, Steve Rogers,” _Steve_ sighed. “Grant is my middle name, Joseph was my dad’s name.”

When Bucky stayed quiet, Steve continued on. “We had been tailing Pierce for about two years, when we got a tip about a large shipment coming in, they finally gave me the green light to do some undercover work. The plan was to go to Pierce through Rumlow, a fast in and out mission.”

“Where did I fit in all this?” Bucky said, exhaling a puff of smoke.

“You were my in to Rumlow.” Steve muttered. He looked down at his shoes, embarrassed at his admission.

Bucky laughed bitterly. “Oh fuck you.”

“Bucky–”

“It’s _James_.” Bucky snapped. “It’s James, to you.”

“Please, I never meant for it to end this way, I never meant for you to get hurt.” Steve took a step forward, fingers itching to take Bucky’s hand into his.  

Bucky threw his cigarette to the ground, he was vibrating with anger. “Yeah? Well what the fuck did you think was going to happen when I found out that you were just _using_ me to get to Pierce? Huh? You think I was just going to roll with it? Pat you on the back and say ‘good job pal, glad I could help’?”

“I–”

Bucky locked his gaze at Steve, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Was any of it even real?”

This was the first time Bucky had acknowledge the fact that their entire relationship was based on a lie and that _everything_ about them was fake. It hurt to think that the nights they spent together, all the secrets he shared, the fun they had was nothing but a front to Steve. Just part of the job.

Bucky bared his heart and soul to a man who was just doing what needed to be done.

“Wh– Bucky, of course it was!” Steve moved to grab Bucky’s hands but Bucky shied away.

“I bared myself to you, opened my heart to you, told you things I never even said out loud before.” Bucky said through gritted teeth. “How do you think I feel when I found out everything about it was a _lie_.”

“It wasn’t a lie. Bu–James, you have to believe me,” Steve pleaded. “I love you.”

“Don’t!” Bucky shouted. “Don’t you fucking dare.” He was trembling, the tears that he desperately tried to hold, fell free down his cheek.

Bucky looked down at his feet, shaking his head, and muttered out, “Get out of here.”

“Bucky.”

“Leave!” Bucky yelled at the top of his lungs that his voice cracked.

Bucky didn’t look up for a while, when he did, Steve was gone and he was all alone.

 

* * *

 

Bucky had been nursing the same bottle of beer for the past hour. It had gone warm and stale but Bucky didn’t care. The people around him were enjoying themselves and high as a kite, but Bucky couldn’t even bring himself to finish one beer.

It took him one meeting with Steve to undo everything he had done to forget and move on. One meeting with Steve was enough for all the feelings he had for him to resurface and it was pissing Bucky off. He went to the Cave seeking comfort at the bottom of a bottle, but all he got was a bad trip and that feeling of loneliness in a sea of people.

“You look terrible.” Natalia said in lieu of a greeting. She took a seat on the floor next to Bucky with a lit cigarette between her lips.

“I _feel_ terrible.”

“I heard.” She hummed. “So, the sentencing was tonight, did you hear the verdict?”

“No.”

“Rumlow got 20 years, so did the rest of his goons.” Natalia flicked her cigarette with nonchalance. “Pierce got community service.”

Bucky’s head snapped to Natalia. “No shit.”

“It was rigged, we knew even before the verdict came out.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Bucky asked, taking another sip of his beer.

“Papa and I, we got a tip from a very reliable source.” She said casually before continuing. “He came to us for help.”

“Who’s he?”

She gave Bucky a look and Bucky’s widened in surprise.

“No. _No!_ We’re not talking about this, and we’re definitely not talking about _him_.” Bucky pointed a finger at Natalia before leaning back against the concrete wall. “You brought anything tonight? I need to not think for a second.”

“No,” She turned sideways and grabbed Bucky by the shoulders. “We’re going to do this now because I’m tired of seeing you like this.”

Bucky sighed and banged his head against the wall. He was quiet for a few beats before asking, “When did he come to you?”

“A few days before the Op,” She admitted. “He knew that there was a pretty good chance Pierce was going to walk away, regardless of the evidence they found. He thought the only person who can’t be bought was Papa.”

“Wait– A few days?” Bucky stared at her. “You _knew?!”_

“I did,” She nodded. “And I stand by what I did. Yasha, he came to Papa, he _begged_ for him to take care of Pierce. He made himself indebted to Papa for _you_.”

“No, he did it because it’s his job.” Bucky replied bitterly.

“The Feds didn’t know what he did. He came alone, as Steve Rogers.” Natalia gently squeezed Bucky’s hand. “He didn’t want all the pain he had caused you to be for nothing, he had to make sure that Pierce goes away, one way or another.”

Bucky looked away. He doesn’t want to think about this, he doesn’t need to be fed false hope that under all the mess, Grant/Steve was really in love with him.

“I can tell you’re being stubborn about this in your head.”

He shot Natalia a glare at the comment but said nothing.

“Honey, you’re miserable. He’s miserable. The cards are in your hands, he can’t make you do anything, but you can. You have the power to change this, don’t tell me you’re just going to let this slip through your fingers.”

Bucky groaned like a child being pestered by his parents. “Fine, _fine_. If I tell you I’ll think about it will you give me E?”

Natalia rolled her eyes but pulled out a baggie from her back pocket and shared the smiley pills with Bucky.

“You know the comedown from this is going to be a bitch, right?”

“Yup.” He said and popped the pill into his mouth anyway.

 

Natalia words stayed in his brain even after he tried to drown himself with alcohol and party drugs. He couldn’t help but to think about the ‘what-ifs’. What if Natalia was telling the truth? What if Steve was really in love with him? What if he gave him a second chance? What if he _didn’t_ give him a second chance?

Bucky was even more unbearable now that he was when he was moping around brokenhearted.

“You’re making me sad.” Becca said one day when they were on the couch, channel surfing.

Bucky glanced at his little sister. “Huh? Why?”

“Because you’re all sad, and it’s making me sad.”

Bucky shrugged and continued channel surfing, even though he had gone through the loop twice. He finally settled on a rerun of Friends, even though he had seen the episode a million times.

“I read an article yesterday, about, uh, childbirth?” Becca said out of the blue. “That, sometimes when giving birth and the baby got stuck, or too big, or something? The doctors would break the baby’s collar bone so they can squeeze out.”

Bucky turned to face Becca slowly with a bewildered look on his face. “What the fuck, Becks?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, but it got me thinking that if a mother was, like, willing to break their own baby to make sure they get delivered safely, maybe lying to someone you love to protect them isn’t so bad.”

“Rebecca.” Bucky groaned.

“It’s a weird analogy, I know! But it makes sense right? And now I’m more sad because if that’s true, if he really does love you, then it must’ve killed him to let you go through all that.”

Bucky mulled over what Becca said and that, on top of what Natalia said, Bucky got more and more certain that he was making a mistake. He _was_ miserable, he never realized how empty his life was until Steve showed up and _left_. He never realize how good they were together until they weren’t.

It took him two days and a half to convince himself to go and do something about it. Natalia was right, the cards were in his hands and it was up to him to change this. He was surprised that he only had to endure one minor breakdown and one insufferable phone call to Natalia to get what he needed.

_“I expect a thank you gift when this is all over.”_ Bucky could hear her smirking on the other end of the line.

“I’ll give you anything you want because you’re the best,” Bucky said, slightly panting as he jogged out to his car. “Wish me luck, _Natashenka_.”

_“Oh Yasha, you don’t need it.”_

 

* * *

 

Bucky stood by his car in front a condo in _fucking Brentwood_ of all places. It was dark, the streets were empty, and nobody but him–and Natalia–knew that he was there, so if he were to go back home without going through with this, nobody would know.

But he would.

He’d come this far and Bucky knew he was going to hate himself if he walked away _now_. He threw the cigarette onto the ground and stomped it with his boots and will himself to move. He slipped in through the front door when someone else walked out and took the stairs to the second floor.

Bucky was nervous. He was _scared_. The last time he made the first step, he ended up being more heartbroken than all of his break ups combined. He opened himself up and let himself be vulnerable and he ended up being used as a stepping stone to something bigger.

Number 207.

Natalia said his actual place was better than the undercover apartment he once took Bucky home to, but she didn’t say it was a fucking condo complete with its own pool and gym. Bucky stood on the carpeted floor for a while, he knew how easy it was to just knock on the door but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The last time he felt this conflicted was before he had the conversation with his ma about not letting fear control his life. Her advice worked then, and it would’ve worked now. These past few weeks gave Bucky the time to actually think things through without his emotions getting in the way. He thought of the ‘what-ifs’, but mostly he thought of _what if he gave him another chance?_

Bucky brought his knuckles up and gave three quick raps against the door.

They wouldn’t go back to the way it was, Bucky knew that. They would have to work on a lot of their pre-existing issues, along with how they were going to navigate their life when one works in law enforcement and the other is a known rule-breaker. They would have to relearn everything about each other, but isn’t that the best part of being in a relationship? Getting to know the other person? Surprising one another?

Bucky knew there was a chance that this might blow up in his face, he’s thought about all the things that could go wrong. But then he thought about the things he could have if it went _right_. The surprise visits at work, the slow lazy morning sex, tired kisses before bed. Bucky wanted all that and more. The thought of being able to have all that with Steve was strong enough to outshine the fear that kept nudging at the back of his mind.

The door opened just a crack.

“Bucky?”

And that maybe, this time around, things would work out just fine.


End file.
